


Us Against The World

by elleisforlovee



Category: British Actor RPF, Harry Potter RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Love, best friend - Freeform, harry potter cast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-07-16
Packaged: 2017-11-10 02:41:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 61,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/461354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elleisforlovee/pseuds/elleisforlovee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the filming of 'Deathly Hallows Pt. 2' wraps up, Emma is beginning to have feelings she swore to herself she'd never experience. She's scared, but unsure of what terrifies her more; the fact that these feelings have perhaps always been there or the idea that they're reciprocated and sometimes it is just *that* easy to fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Last of Days

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted over on the R/E boards (proboards). I am merely reposting it here so that perhaps it can meet a larger audience. I do ask that because this work is posted in its entirety, that if you feel a certain inkling to review a certain chapter that you do so. Either way, reviews, comments and questions are accepted at any point throughout the work. Thanks!

**Disclaimer: As I say with every RL Fanfiction I write, the point of this story is not to offend. It is merely things I would like to happen based on what has already transpired. That being said, I used time and places to my advantage. While I tried to remain true to the actors and dates, some things were moved around to fit the story. At the end of the day, it is FF and I have strong faith that you all will be able to let it go. I tried to use the Rupert and Emma that we all know and love, but I manipulated their emotions (emotions that I believe them to keep hidden in the recesses of their hearts and minds) to fit each situation. Also, each chapter will be named after a song. I tend to strongly associate my OTPs with the music I listen to. It's a habit, one that I've come to master. I really do believe in these two and I think that's the main reason I wrote this. They may not be together now, but I can definitely see them working something out in a few years.  
  
A/N: The first chapter is a bit brief and therefore vague. Not all of the chapters are like this, but I tend to start off my fiction this way. Nonetheless, feedback is greatly appreciated!  
  
Song: _Us Against the World_ -Coldplay**   
  


* * *

  
  
It seemed normal to her, really; just an average day on set. It was, in fact, a Wednesday, and an overcast one at that. Outside, a few extras, dressed up as first years paced through the hallway to get their faces painted for an upcoming scene in the Quidditch Pitch. Already, Emma felt as if her face was painted, and she hadn’t even gotten her makeup done yet. She sat in her dressing room, fingering through the latest issue of Vogue with her manicured nails. She winced, thinking how bittersweet and simple her life would be; a movie series under her belt before her twenty-second birthday and painted nails. It had been a month and a half since her finger nails sparkled in midnight blues and subtle nudes. Now, she was plain, her hair being frizzed and pulled at by both an assistant and her own hair stylist. She wanted so desperately to cut it, and feel the release of those antiquated locks hitting the hardwood below. It was a dream she had and a secret she kept: to have short hair like her mother, while still remaining that same girl she always had been.   
  
On the other side of the dressing room, her father was poised, reading the newspaper, and every so often checking his blackberry. It made her think of her mum, a thought she only choked back as soon as it escaped her mind. She leaned forward, grabbing for her own phone to text her brother. The sleep that was in her eyes made her phone blend in with the various powders and brushes that lay scattered along the counter. Somewhere Emma’s tea sat, but that was lost too, behind bottles of hairspray and mousse. The mirror in front of her was framed in pictures from both on set and off. Above it, faded broadway lights lit the tiny room and Emma wondered why she was never blinded by their illumination eleven years ago.   
  
Emma sat poking at the muffin on the plate in front of her, the same way she was being prodded at in that salon chair. The flats she wore dangled, one bent awkwardly on the foot stand below the chair, and the other extended outward toward the coffee table nearby. She was waiting for everyone’s failed attempts at primping her to silence themselves. On screen she was the girl so eager to please, and off screen she was the woman that everyone was all too quick to please. Somehow both involved acting on her part. She wanted out, and maybe a cup of coffee, if only he wasn't always so late in returning it to her. They had left only ten minutes earlier, and already Emma felt her heart begin to sink at the loss of contact. This whole process would be over in just seven more months. Choking back a tear, Emma cursed herself for ever wanting something other than this. "Fuck nailpolish," she thought.   
  


* * *

  
  
x. Elle 


	2. Skinny Love

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
A/N: Thank you to everyone for the comments. You guys are so sweet!  
  
Song: _Skinny Love_ -Bon Iver**   
  


* * *

  
  
"Rupes, this is rubbish!" Somehow it was that extra 's' that everyone else left out that made him driving ten minutes off set and away from her, completely worth it. Now, sitting on the steps outside the lot they were currently filming on, Emma held the coffee he had gotten her. In his hands was the paper bag containing his blueberry muffin. Tradition, the air whispered.   
  
"It's not that bad!"  
  
"It literally tastes like mud."  
  
He grabbed the cup from her, setting the recycled foam on the threshold between the parking lot and the grass. "Well I rather enjoy it" He handed her his water.   
  
She sipped at the bottle. "Mmm! Much better..."  
  
"You've gone American on me, Watson."  
  
Emma's mouth dropped as she stood up. "You take that back! The last name and the false accusation...all of it!"  
  
Rupert shook his head. He joined her on his feet. "Never.” A pause. “It's true..." He placed his muffin wrapper and empty coffee cup in the trash. "Everyone's been talking about it, Em. What with the premieres and all..."  
  
"Rupert..." He couldn't control it anymore. The way her brows furrowed as she pursed her lips in agitation was enough to make him explode. Instead, he let out a light chuckle, causing her lips to smirk as she lunged on his back. "You arse, Rupert Grint!"  
  
Emma wanted to punch him softly on the shoulder but instead she settled into a trot, her feet bringing her closer and closer to the doors leading back onto the lot. For a second, she found herself wondering why both her and Rupert were called this early, when they hadn’t had a scene yet to film. In the same breath, she agreed with herself that she didn’t mind being their early, and if she absolutely had to, she’d be fine drinking rubbish cups of coffee for the rest of her life if it meant never having to move on.   
  
She knew that in a few short months, this all would disappear. These studios would no longer be home, and her dressing room would be given away to the next starlet willing to take it. Maybe she’d be blonde and slim, and her cheeks would tug at her lips as she sat down in that same metal chair Emma had made her own over the past eleven years. She’d probably overlook the marks of tape left on the mirror from where Emma’s presumably ripped off old pictures of herself and Dan at premieres, as well as pictures of her family; her mom and Alex at family parties. The pictures of Emma and Rupert wouldn’t leave marks, as those were kept in their own little corner of Emma’s vanity, all the way on the other side of the room. They’d be removed with care, perhaps placed in a manilla envelope, until Emma could bring them home and stick them on her fridge, or on the inside of her armoire.   
  
But that was months away, and there were scenes and lines and characters to fill the void until then. It was only in specific moments, like this one before her; Rupert holding the door for her as the two disappeared down separate halls as they always had, that Emma began to think not of what had happened to her during these past eleven years, but rather what she missed. Every Wednesday the two had this tradition, ever since Rupert turned seventeen and bought his car, the same one that made Emma feel childish and ridiculous every time she sat in it after he practically begged to give her a ride home. And then, when Emma no longer cared what her assistant and driver thought of her, she asked them to stop, so she could take care of the pastries, leaving the coffee orders with Rupert. Some may find it silly, and in fact, Tom and Dan both commented on the waste of time their ritual seemed to be. Of course Emma would laugh along, and Rupert would smile, in the way that he always did, allowing the entire room to know that everything was casual. She bit her lip just thinking of his teeth, and how perfectly they peeked out of his mouth whenever he sensed things were sometimes uncomfortable.   
  
Nothing was awkward for Rupert, ironically, the same boy that Emma used to think defined the very same word. But not now, not at twenty-two, with his stubble and worn out suit jacket. In fact, if Emma had to think of a word to describe Rupert, she’d pick perfect. Maybe not for her, or anyone really, but he had grown into himself, and although she had nothing to do with his actual maturity, she liked to think, in moments of silence, that she was all apart of it.   
  


* * *

  
  
x. Elle 


	3. Fool To Think

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
A/N: This chapter is rather short. I promise they begin to pick up...   
  
Song: _Fool to Think_ -Dave Matthews Band**   
  


* * *

  
  
It was right around Easter that Emma went through this three week binge of being completely and utterly honest with herself as well as the rest of the world. Two days before, Rupert had admitted to himself, rather loudly in fact, in front of his bathroom mirror that he was no longer in love with Emma. Charlotte walked by around the same time and laughed at her brother, his hair perfectly quaffed into a shaggy mess. He wore a t-shirt with Johnny Cash’s face on it and over the top of it, a blazer, with folded cuffs. His usual jeans and converse covered his bottom half.   
  
“Rupe-”  
  
“Char...I was just-”  
  
“Practicing lying, are we?”  
  
“Char, can we not please?”  
  
“This is good for you, I reckon.” Then a pause, and a slight chuckle. “Em would never date you, you loof!” She smacked him over the head with the current issue of Cosmopolitan she had just finished reading. “Where are you going anyway?” She was in the kitchen by now, bringing her bowl full of soggy cereal to the sink. While her brother had been up since five to be at the studio by seven, she had slept until two this afternoon, right when he had come home. He forgot what that was like: sleeping in and being lazy. That is, after all, what he imagined would be expected of him, had he not had a career picked for him when he was eleven.   
  
“Hey Rupe, can I-” Georgina stopped in the door. “Where the hell are you going?”  
  
“Is everyone in this house nosy?”  
  
“The lot of us...yes.” Georgina nodded. She leaned on the door-frame leading into the bathroom so that her head was in the room and her feet still out in the hall with the rest of her body. “Date with Emma?” Rupert looked at her, his face expressionless. “I heard you talking on the phone.”  
  
One last time, Rupert flattened the collar on his jacket and hit the light switch in the bathroom. He walked past his sister, heading further into the home, toward the kitchen to where Charlotte and Samantha were now helping his mother prepare for dinner. “Rupert!” His mother’s voice stopped him from disappearing completely. He stopped and turned around, shuffling toward the island in the middle of the kitchen. “Where are you off to now?”  
  
“Dinner with some friends, mum.”  
  
“Rupert, you know that we always have Friday dinner together.”  
  
“I’m off this weekend,” he offered.  
  
“Yes, well on the lord’s rising, I hoped you would be,” she chortled. Rupert said nothing. “Am I to be expecting you home late again?” She received no answer. Her son just walked off, exhaustion setting into his shoulders as he sauntered out of the house, his house, a place that often reminded him of the Burrow with it’s constant eyes and ears.   
  


* * *

  
  
x. Elle 


	4. Everybody Knows

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
Song: _Everybody Knows_ \- Ryan Adams  
**

* * *

  
  
Save for studio time, premieres, and anything else work related, Rupert was almost always late. As usual, he walked into The Hung Drawn only after everyone was seated. There were about twenty of them stuffed into a room fit to accommodate maybe ten at most. He heard her laugh first, then saw the empty chair next to her petite frame. Scanning the table, and waving at everyone that began to seemingly shout at him as he walked in, he sat down next to the brunette who did nothing but smile his way, sweetly, before allowing what he would call a moment, to flutter away. She was wearing a white lace dress and brown boots. Her favorite army jacket lay slung over one of the empty booths. The last time she wore it, they had went to the cinema together. He remembered that night perfectly, and wondering if it ever crossed her mind too.  
  
“You guys didn’t have to wait for me to order,” Rupert said, leaning into Emma so she could hear him above all the chatter.  
  
“We didn’t. The waitress hasn’t even come back with our drinks yet.”  
  
“Whatdja get?”  
  
“Merlot.” She smiled looking at him over her shoulder, a position he often saw her in.  
  
“Miss Watson?” The same man that had helped Rupert to the room when he first arrived had now poked his head back in, staring straight at Emma. Of course she looked up, in a way that made everyone chuckle. Everyone else had gotten used to people knowing their names, but even a waiter knowing her name perhaps because it was given to him by the boy waiting for her on the other side of the wall, was a shock. “A Mr. Craig wishes to say hello...”  
  
Rupert didn’t know where she was brought to, but he watched as she went. He couldn’t see them but he could make out their shadows, reflected against the crackled glass pub windows. He watched Emma smile as the boy who he now knew to be George enveloped her in a hug.  
  
“Wanker.” Tom whispered, leaning into Rupert causing Jade and Bonnie to laugh.  
  
“Leave the kid alone, babe.”  
  
“George or Rupe?  
  
“Both!” Bonnie piped in. “And Emma too...”  
  
“Whoa whoa, nobody brought Em into this. But Rupe you’ve got some drool...right...” He reached out a finger toward Rupert’s chin causing the redhead to stop staring and shake his head at Tom.  
  
“You’re an ass, you know that?” The friends laughed, somehow bringing Dan and the rest of the table into their conversation.  
  
“Are you ever going to just fess up?”  
  
Rupert shook his head. “I’m over her, man. Just drop it.”  
  
“Over? You’ve been in love with her for three years now.” Bonnie added, quickly covering her mouth as she soon regretted adding anything to the conversation. Her statement was accurate and she wasn’t saying anything that Rupert himself didn’t know.  
  
“Over requires a relationship to begin with,” Dan pointed out.  
  
“You boys are mean,” Jade spoke up. “Seriously Rupe, I don’t know why you just haven’t been honest with her. You’re a catch, you know. Any girl would be lucky to have you...”  
  
Rupert stopped listening as the conversation continued. It didn’t matter to him that a beautiful girl had just told him he was a catch. What he wanted was the girl on the other side of the glass, the same one whose hand had just been kissed by her ex-boyfriend before she waved and disappeared again. George’s shadow was gone too, and as Emma re-entered, the room grew silent.  
  
“Did I miss something?”  
  
“Drinks are here.” Tom said, shaking at his tumbler full of whiskey and ice.  
  


* * *

  
  
x. Elle


	5. Everybody Knows

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
A/N: I picked the songs for each chapter wayyyyy after I wrote the actual chapter. This is in no way a song fic. That being said though, this song kinda fits perfectly and I kinda love it. Just thought you guys would like to know ;]  
  
Song: _What She Really Wants_ \- Brighten**  
  


* * *

  
  
It was raining in London. Nobody seemed to be shocked as umbrellas popped open and the streets sparkled in a brilliant matte finish beneath the girls heels. They all hugged and waved goodbye to one another, leaving Emma and Rupert to walk toward Rupert’s car. “Do you need a ride?”  
  
Emma shook her head. “Nope, my car is coming.”  
  
“Cancel it. I’ll drive you-”  
  
“Rupes, it’s the complete opposite direction.”  
  
“Yeah, and? Holiday tomorrow. C’mon.”  
  
Emma reluctantly stepped into Rupert’s car, but only after he opened the door for her, taking her umbrella and holding it out as she got in. He then closed the contraption, throwing it in the trunk before hurrying himself into the driver’s seat. Once inside he ran a hand through his now soaked hair. “Did you call to cancel your car?”  
  
Emma’s eyes widened as she swallowed. “Oh no, let me do that.” Absently, her mind allowed her fingers to tap at random keys that she only erased moments later. “All set.”  
  
A certain silence filled the car, as the Arctic Monkeys hummed along on the radio. Emma stared out the window, pretending to think only of her warm bed at home. It was nice that she didn’t have to tell Rupert where her flat was, exactly. It was also nice that there were no paparazzi at the restaurant to now follow them back to her place. It gave her time to stare at raindrops cascading down the rearview mirrors, blurring the road behind them.  
  
“Are you okay?” They hadn’t spoken at all, so it wasn’t even possible for Rupert to have said anything to signal to Emma that he wasn’t in fact, okay. But was he ever? His white knuckles on the steering wheel reminded him how strongly he felt about her sometimes, and by sometimes he meant every single day from the time he went to bed to the time he woke up. It was those times, essentially, when he’d waste his time thinking about how many minutes existed until he saw her, to distract him from thinking about what he’d do to her if they were together. After all, it was normal to fall for Emma Watson; a fact that ate at him from within every day on set.   
  
Rupert nodded and then smiled. He loosened his grip of the wheel as he let his right hand idly play with his hair. “Rupes, talk to me...” They were at a red light now and Emma pulled his hand down to the stick shift below so that it was engulfing her own.   
  
“Ems...” Rupert’s breath hitched at the skin to skin contact. “Everything’s fine.”  
  


* * *

  
  
x. Elle   
---  
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	6. Liar

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
Song: _Liar_ -Mumford & Sons**   
  


* * *

  
  
A week had passed, or maybe it was two. London had passed all three young cast members by in the form of airport runways and fast food. Now, they were in Scotland, filming a scene they all swore could have been green-screened like a good portion of the rest of the film. Still, it was something to laugh about in a place that was not home.   
  
For Emma, it was the idea of sleeping in a bed that was not hers, despite rarely getting sleep in her own apartment back home. Her hotel was quaint, and in fact, her room was attached to Daniel’s whose room shared a bathroom with Rupert’s. They were sure, or rather positive, that other actors would have complained about the tiny European rooms with mutual living space and close quarters. It bothered Rupert more that he was missing Charlotte’s birthday, as well as his parents wedding anniversary. Still, it was nice to see Emma walking from the bathroom to her closet when Dan accidently left their door open one Sunday afternoon. Of course he pretended not to stare, but she saw him, or rather felt the way his orbs landed on her skin, still wet from the steamy bath she had just enjoyed. It was another thing to shrug off, as she grabbed clothes from her wardrobe and dropped her towel to the ground, only after re-entering the bathroom and locking the door.  
  
Emma made sure not to let the incident occur again, only revisiting the memory in her mind when she thought about how carefree Dan was and how he hadn’t asked about George or anyone she had been seeing in quite some time. To Dan, Emma was a sister, a thought and fact not created by any publicist. He saw her as beautiful and smart, but not in the way that Rupert did. With Dan, there was no admiration in his words. He simply talked to her as if she was a friend, because to Dan that is simply just what she was and what she always would be.  
  
On this particular morning, the friends were riding in a town car to a remote location on the outskirts of Scotland. Emma diligently looked over her lines to no avail. The words had not changed from when she last memorized them, two nights before, on the balcony overlooking a lake with Rupert. She remembered drinking wine, red wine to be exact, and wondering if it was the syntax of the script or the alcohol that made her want to cry. Settling back into the leather seat, Emma had decided that it was the scene and not the booze. Rarely did she allow her own emotion’s to control the character she played, but here she found herself thinking that if the love of her life ever walked out on her the way Ron walked out on Hermione, she’d be ruined.  
  
The car stopped, an assistant quickly pulling at the handle to let both Dan and Emma out of the car. While both missed the lot back in London, these landscapes they so often filmed at were much more relaxed. It felt like method acting sometimes, and Emma was reminded of this as she walked into a large white tent in the middle of the field where Rupert sat in a makeup chair, his arm already wound in tattered cloth as a makeup artist, some woman Emma had never seen before, painted bags underneath Rupert’s already tired eyes.  
  
“Rupes, you look god awful!”  
  
He smiled up at her. “What is it with you always insulting me lately?”   
  
“Have I?” She playfully smirked. “I hadn’t even noticed...you skipped out on breakfast this morning. We had your favorite! Beans and fried tomatoes.”   
  
Rupert smiled. Only Emma would know that as disgusting as it sounded, he really could eat a traditional English breakfast every morning. “I was picked up around 6:45. David had to go over a few prop issues from yesterday.”  
  
“Prop issues?”  
  
“Something with my deluminator?” Rupert shook his head. “It’s heavier now, really. S’all...”  
  
Emma paused. “Is everything alright?” She fought the urge to reach her arm out and touch his forehead. The longer her hand remained at her side, the more she longed for the pads of her fingers to brush against his perfectly speckled skin.   
  
A silence, and then a smile. Rupert just nodded, retreating back to his script. Unlike Emma’s, his had notes and doodles all along the margins. Emma noticed a few things written in her own handwriting and she wondered what else had happened the other night that she couldn’t quite remember. What was the happy medium between wishing for nothing and hoping for everything all at the same time? She hoped something like that had occurred. “Well I need to get into makeup. I’ll see you out there.”  
  
Emma pushed aside the soft linen that guarded her and Rupert from the outside world. The sun was now rising toward its apex. Ahead, she saw Dan talking to David and one of the set designers. Emma approached and joined the conversation, not listening really, but rather craving mocha and cocoa on her tongue.   
  
As usual, it was Emma who arrived on live set first. Daniel and Rupert arrived nearly a minute later, both muttering something about her punctuality. Behind them, David spoke and once again Emma looked at Rupert and thought just how truly awful he looked. A set assistant snapped at a take marker causing reality to blur. Emma was no longer a model and an actress, but instead a girl so hopelessly in love with a boy, it ached from deep within her. Rupert followed suit, and Daniel just felt as if for once all he had to do was react, something he sometimes forgot the difficulty of. Emma and Rupert soon made it easy, the hurt in both their eyes resonating throughout the limited space of the cramped tent.   
  
All the while, cameramen, lighting ops and David sat perched in the corner, breathing ever so softly as to not completely ruin the moment. Ignoring them for a second, Dan could almost sense the truth in all of it. The words were Ron and Hermione’s, but it was Rupert and Emma speaking them. “Ron! Please-” Emma hissed, grabbing at the locket that hung around Rupert’s neck. Rupert pushed her hand away and her eyes widened. “Take...” She breathed in sharply. “Please take the horcrux off....you wouldn’t be saying any-” There he was again, pushing her away. “-of this if you hadn’t been wearing it all day!”   
  
Rupert looked her up and down. If it were up to him, he would have hugged her right then and there, but he had lost that control and was no longer allowed to be himself. “You don’t know why I listen to that radio every night, do you? To make sure I don’t hear Ginny’s name...or Fred. Or George.” He cringed at the name. “Or Mum-”  
  
“Oh you think I’m not listening too? You think I don’t know how this feels?!” Dan spat back.  
  
Rupert cut him off, just as they had practiced. “NO! You don’t know how this feels! Your parents are dead!” The words falling from Rupert’s moist lips made Emma want to cry. She fought the urge, instead letting the emotions bubble up in the back of her throat, only to show across her face in the form of tears welling in her eyes. “You have no family!”, he finished.  
  
Dan rushed at Rupert, flinging his arms at his shoulders exactly where the fight coordinator had told him to do so. “Fine then go!” Dan spat. Emma had a line too, though she couldn’t remember if she had said it. She was too busy acting and reacting to the interaction between the boys; her boys. A pregnant pause of heavy breathing and then Dan said his line, Emma being the only thing to separate the argument they all played into. Those tears she felt became harder and harder to brush off as the scene intensified. Rupert threw the locket to the ground, Emma stared, and Dan moved out of the way of the camera that was already slowly zooming in.   
  
“Ron...” Emma pleaded, looking Rupert straight in the eye. She thought for a moment she could see the same pain her character was giving off, bouncing back onto her from his pupils. Emma could only breathe, but barely. Her sobs caught in her throat.  
  
“And you-” Rupert spoke, pointing at her. “Are you coming or are you staying?” Emma looked back to the empty space where Dan recently was. The tent seemed to clear out a bit, tension taking place of the boy who stood there just moments before. “Fine.” Rupert adjusted the strap of his bag, heading for the flap of the tent. “I get it. I saw you two the other night...”  
  
“Ron that’s-that’s nothing...” This line was Emma’s too. Dan was sure of it as Rupert disappeared outside. “Ron!” He heard Emma yell. “Ron! Where are you going?” Emma ran after him, the two now awkwardly standing outside the tent for only their voices to be picked up by microphones that hung from poles above. “Please come back!” And then, “Ron! RON!” One last agonizing scream, and everyone could feel it, the rawness and the hostility between these two characters that had been so connected for seven movies now, to only be torn apart by jealousy and poor judgment.   
  
The set grew silent as David called “cut!”.   
  
Rupert and Emma walked back into the tent, now standing closely as they received notes from David. Emma felt as if she was more of Hermione now, listening and taking notes in her mind, then she was a few seconds ago, trying to convince Rupert (or was it Ron she was talking to then?) that the other night was nothing. Rupert too played it all back in his mind as his thoughts drifted to their dinner before Easter. He saw her in that lace dress, her hair now falling out as he walked her to her door. It had stopped raining by then but Rupert couldn’t stop hearing water hit the pavement. He knew it was him trying his best not to think of her lips upon his.  
  
Emma felt a similar surge, one that she quickly pulled the plug on. It was true that she had become rather honest in the past few weeks. Somehow, however, admitting that you’re in love with your best friend and have been for quite some time, was easier in front of bathroom mirrors than on a set, playing house in front of a crew full of people.   
  


* * *

  
  
x. Elle 


	7. Can't Help Falling In Love

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
Song: _Can't Help Falling in Love_ -Ingrid Michaelson**   
  


* * *

  
  
Pulling away the tissue she lightly dabbed to her waterline, Emma saw the faintest bit of powder smudged along the crease. She sighed in defeat, standing closer to her mirror as she fought to fix her makeup quickly before lunch. She was still in wardrobe, something she’d also have to fix before heading off to catering. Or maybe she just wouldn’t go at all.   
  
It had taken seven different cuts of the scene where Ron leaves, for them to be done for the day. Or at least before lunch. Emma was exhausted and her shoulder ached. She pulled at her shirt, not caring the light tank top she wore underneath it barely covered the black bra she had on. She even found herself caring less when Rupert walked in and stopped instantly, counting freckles on the back of her neck.   
  
“I can just go-” He headed back for the door, pulling up his hood as he did so. Emma stopped him, the shock of her clammy hands upon his much warmer ones caused his body to tense up almost as much as the idea of her standing right next to him.   
  
“Please don’t Rupes.” Emma begged.   
  
He pulled her in for a hug. “Hey....hey...” He breathed slightly, chuckling into her hair as he breathed into her. She settled into him, feeling the tears that were taking refuge in her ducts begin to spill out onto his hoodie. Emma wanted to apologize but Rupert just pulled her closer to him. With him, there was no will be to cordial. Now, looking up at him through wet lenses, she found herself pulling this boy that truly was her best friend, down onto the couch next to her.   
  
Rupert softly pushed her hair away from her face just as he had done that night weeks ago on her porch. She looked at him differently now, from eyes that were hurt, and maybe even concerned. “I’m so tired, Rupes,” she muttered as she pulled her feet into her chest, once again gravitating into his body. He quickly accepted her frame, his arm already stretched out onto the back of the couch, falling lightly near the nape of her neck. She played with his fingers as he just stared down at her, loving the way her smile always seemed so incredibly genuine whenever he was with her.  
  
A silence breathed itself throughout the tent like a light wind. “Can I tell you something?”  
  
Emma sat up. “Of course.” And she meant it.  
  
“The other night at the pub-”  
  
“Rupes, I knew it...”   
  
“No. It’s just that...he hurt you, Ems. And you know people can talk and say what they want about us, but you’re my best friend and I think he’s an ass.”  
  
“Is that it?”   
  
Rupert looked around and then nodded. “Well, yeah...” And then Emma dropped her head back laughing loudly. Rupert joined her, the pure sound of her giggle was enough to keep him happy for several moments. “Wha?” Rupert stammered only after the two stopped cracking up. “I’m serious Em, he’s-”   
  
She stopped him: a trend of the night. Her flat palm stroked gently at his cheek. “That was nothing, Rupes,” she affirmed. “Nothing.”  
  


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x. Elle 


	8. Edge Of Desire

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
A/N: There's some slang in here that I hope is both accurate and tasteful. My dad's Irish so as far as the UK goes, that's where my knowledge of any language differences begins and ends. Can I play the ignorant American card and you all just go along with it? That'd be fabulous.   
  
Song: _Edge of Desire_ \- John Mayer**   
  


* * *

  
  
“Rupert! Rupes!” Running to the bathroom where he heard her voice echo against the tile, Rupert almost tripped over the corner of her bed, the same one both had napped on when arriving home from work that night. This was one of their last nights in Scotland and both Emma and Rupert planned to order room service while Dan took Rosie into the city.   
  
After awaking from her nap, Emma spent exactly sixteen minutes watching Rupert sleep. She enjoyed the way his chest rose and fell a mere beat after her own. She also liked the way his briefs appeared out from above his denim as he turned over in his sleep. She wanted so desperately to kiss him, but fought the urge, running herself a rosewater bath instead. She stepped out of her sweatpants and threw her camisole to the floor. Standing above the tub in just her bra and panties, she felt vulnerable, counting the minutes she had been awake without him.  
  
Before calling him, she had heard him stir, just as the bubbles from her bodywash rose high enough to conceal exactly what she wanted to hide from him. It was enough for her, and for him too, as he walked into the bathroom and saw her laying there in the tub. From where he stood at the door, he only saw the top of her head, a myriad of bubbles, and then her feet poking out at the other end of the bowl. Her toes were a deep red, offsetting her flushed cheeks as she dropped her head back against the rim of the tub, the cold porcelain massaging her neck as her eyes remained closed.  
  
Rupert knew that if he didn’t leave soon, there would be consequences. He remembered a time when he was fifteen, and he walked in on a half naked thirteen year old Emma in her dressing room. It was hard then, and as he saw her pick her neck up, it was even harder now. There was a certain awkwardness, and even a naivete about that incident almost eight years ago. Now, with Emma almost twenty, he saw her differently. He stared and gawked and thanked god for his position at the doorway.  
  
“Are we ordering food? I’m bloody starved,” she said frankly.   
  
Rupert stepped out for a minute, and then felt gravity pull him right back in, the room service menu in his hand, and then hers, as he sat on the floor now facing her with his knees pulled to his chest. Her heavy eyes looked over the menu, once and then twelve times. This was Emma, diligent and receptive.   
  
“What are those things, Rupes? With the ricotta-” She pointed to the air, drawing something with her index finger.  
  
“Stuffed courgettes?”   
  
Emma nodded. “I want those. And some wine.”  
  
“That’s it?” Rupert questioned, staring at her eyes carefully.  
  
Emma thought for a second. “Well, what are you getting?” Yes, she was teasing at this point.  
  
Rupert snatched the menu from her. “I was thinking some Hot Plum Chutney, the spring salad, and maybe the lamb and veg...”   
  
Emma snatched the menu back from him, now smirking behind it’s tiny font as her orbs peaked out over the cardstock. “Okay, RONALD!” she emphasized.  
  
“That’s low, Em.”  
  
She smiled. “No, it’s true. You and Dan eat like monkeys.”  
  
“Do monkeys particularly eat a lot?” Rupert questioned seriously sending Emma into a fit of giggles. “Well, you can call, they made fun of my accent this morning...”  
  
“You asked for a bloody Banger and they thought you meant alcohol! You practically gave them something to call the tabloids about. ‘Harry Potter Star and his drinking problem...’”  
  
“It was your breakfast, not mine! I just wanted a bap.”  
  
“Well, they didn’t quite understand that either, did they?” Emma paused before beginning to laugh again. “Although I could go for a bagel.” Rupert returned from the other room where he had grabbed the telephone off the nightstand. He sat back down, grabbing the menu from Emma again as he began to dial. “You don’t suppose they have those, do you?”  
  
Rupert shook his head. “No. But we have a day off tomorrow. The city might...I mean, if you wanted-” Emma couldn’t respond because Rupert technically never invited her anywhere. He had merely mentioned something based on an assumption he had, and then his call was connected to the front desk so he could place their order. While he talked on and on, picking out a bottle of wine for Emma, and settling on a salad dressing for himself, he watched Emma play with the bubbles that surrounded her skin. Her skin tone seemed deeper when she was wet. The hair at the nape of her neck was damp. He stared at it, his eyes settling into the way it curled as the man on the line repeated their order back to him.   
  
“All set?” Emma asked. Rupert had hung up the phone already but he was still staring. He connected eyes with her and just nodded, swallowing the want in the back of his throat. He would deal with that later. Emma rubbed at her arms with her loofa, causing the skin to sparkle as the chandelier above allowed the light to sink into her complexion. “I’m almost done here. Hand me my towel?”  
  
“Ems...”  
  
“Oh c’mon Rupes! I’ve known you for how many years? Hand me my towel, you git!”  
  
He grabbed for the towel she had placed on the toilet earlier. He stood up, unfolding the soft fabric and holding it out for her. He watched her stand up out of the corner of his eye. He’d be lying if he said his eyes hadn’t caught on the tops of her breasts, spilling out over the towel she had just wrapped tightly around her body. She was small again, her body encased within the eggshell terrycloth fabric. As Rupert fought to stare at her legs peeking out from underneath the towel as she pulled for the tub to drain, Emma fought the urge to nestle into his body the way she had done just days ago on the couch in her makeshift dressing room.   
  
“Give me your hand.” Rupert obliged. Emma grabbed a hold of the tips of his fingers, using his body as support as she stepped out of the slippery porcelain bowl. She stopped once on the tile below. Her eyes caught on Rupert’s, the two spending moments just staring at eachother, Rupert down, and Emma up. Then, “You're a sweet boy, Rupes. I love you for that, you know.”  
  
They ordered a movie on paperview, something Rupert only pretended to understand. Emma’s French was enough to get her by, but she caught herself feigning comprehension as she stared up at Rupert, his stubble already present on his chin from not shaving that morning. She knew she’d be lying if she had said that she loathed his scruff. He also needed a haircut, or at least that’s what the wardrobe department would tell him, but Emma liked his hair like this too; a bit overgrown and shaggy.   
  
Now, at quarter past nine, the two sat hovering over the coffee table, eating food that was only delivered moments before. "Why is it fair that I get made fun of for clearly ordering the best things on the menu, if you're the one that ends up eating them...?”  
  
Emma poked her fork at Rupert’s plate. "I haven't had lamb in ages!” She slid the meat in her mouth, enjoying the way the juices caused her tongue to salivate.   
  
"Glutton," he teased.  
  
Emma reached over the table, giving up as Rupert moved the creme brûlée he had ordered further away from her. "This," he pointed "is mine."  
  
"Rupes..." she was almost moaning. Emma stood up, her hands on her hips as she looked down at the boy still sitting at their makeshift table. "Please?"  
  
Rupert shook his head. "Order your own!"   
  
Emma grabbed her spoon from the tablecloth and stabbed at Rupert's bowl. She missed, and attempted one last time before loosing her footing, sending her body tumbling down onto Rupert's.   
  
When Dan and Rosie got in that night there was an empty bowl of creme brûlée on the ground along with just one spoon. Emma and Rupert had fallen asleep on the couch nearby, Emma's face nuzzled into Rupert's neck as they slept. The room still smelled of rosewater and white wine.  
  


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x. Elle 


	9. About A Girl

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
A/N: Dan will be a big part of this story just as Harry is a big part of Ron/Hermione's story. That being said, I feel just as strongly about Dan/Emma as I do Harry/Hermione. I love them as friends, nothing more. Anything else, even the mention of it between those two in any form sends me into panic attacks. Love them to death, I just don't know what people mean when they say they have chemistry. I refuse to accept that because I just don't see it. Okay, end rant. Sorry! Enjoy the chapter?  
  
Song: _About A Girl_ \- The Summer Set**  
  


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Rupert wondered if Emma would remember anything from last night. He also wondered who else she had gotten drunk with over the years, and why it was always him who was sober at the end of the night if he was truly as bad of an influence as she teased him for being. Sitting up from the couch, he did his best not to wake Emma who had always been a deep sleeper when given the chance. She nestled further into him, her half-asleep form clearly not wanting to lose his warmth. He grabbed a blanket from the trunk at the foot of Emma’s untouched bed, and gently unfolded the soft fleece, placing it ever so carefully around Emma’s shoulders. The rest of the fabric fell to her sides, stopping right before her feet, just the way the bubbles from the night before let the air kiss her toes.   
  
The door leading from Emma’s room into the room where both Dan and Rupert had beds was open. Rupert cursed himself for ever letting any of this happen, while at the same time thanking the heavens Tom was nowhere to witness any of it. Tom and Rupert were close, maybe even closer than Dan and Rupert, but Tom didn’t hide his humor when it came to Rupert and Emma. Tom was merely saying what everyone else thought and believed to be true; these two were entirely too close to just be friends and emotions like that shouldn’t be wasted.   
  
Patting at his head to fix his hair, Rupert fixed the button on his jeans and walked into the suite he shared with Dan. Rosie was still asleep on the bed in Dan’s room, and Rupert quickly walked past, trying not to think too much into it. He wondered if Dan thought the same thing. After all, Rupert had seen the couple walk in last night and played sleeping all the while. He didn’t want to talk about it, especially as Emma slung her arm around his neck, resting her moist lips on the base of his collarbone.   
  
At the door to the bathroom, Rupert saw Dan fishing through his toiletries bag as he tried his best to get ready for his day off while also trying to let Rosie sleep. Dan was never one to be quiet and there was rarely a time where he was around and everyone didn’t notice. "Do you have aspirin, mate?"  
  
Dan looked over to Rupert. His arm was resting parallel to the door jam, his body slanting the same way. "Hangover?"  
  
"No. my head has been killing me all morning...we-"  
  
"Exactly. You. You and Em. It's the closeness.” Dan stated simply, pressing aftershave to his chin.  
  
Rupert kicked at the carpet. "It's not like that."  
  
"For you or her?"  
  
"Dan."  
  
Dan walked past Rupert, quickly, turning off the light behind Rupert in the process. He headed out into the foyer area where his blackberry and laptop sat on the coffee table in front of the television. It was characteristically Dan, too much stimulation in little perfect amounts. "She cares about you."  
  
"She cares about you too..."  
  
"Okay that,” he emphasized, “is really not like that. You're not getting it!” Dan whisper yelled, unaware that his girlfriend was already stirring in the other room.   
  
"How was dinner with Ro?"   
  
Dan chuckled. "We're not done talking about this.”  
  
"I am!” Rupert tried, walking back toward Emma’s room.   
  
"Rupert, you've got to stop running from this"  
  
"Do you know how it feels Dan? No matter how many times someone tells me I could have any girl I want all I want is her!"  
  
A pregnant pause and then: "She doesn't talk to me about you much.”  
  
"Ghee mate, that's comforting."  
  
"She talked to me about Jay and George but not you-"  
  
"Salt, Dan..."  
  
“Please just give her more time..."  
  
Rupert turned around, feeling a jolt of pressure surge at his chest like a belated heartbeat. "I thought she doesn't talk about me?”, he spat. “How would you-?"  
  
Dan looked up from behind the coffee cup he was now sipping at. Liquid rushed past his lips as he smirked. "She doesn't. But I see the way she looks at you when you're not looking...and it’s always when you’re not looking by the way.” He looked down and smiled, not even needing to see Rupert to know how he felt about all of this. “And her laugh when you tell a joke...and even when you don't tell a joke she's just waiting for you to, like it’s her favorite part of the day or something...”  
  
"She does have a bloody brilliant laugh..."  
  
In Dan’s bedroom, Rosie now sat up watching her boyfriend and his best friend interact. She had seen this many times, even before she and Dan were dating. Smiles. Shared both on screen and off. They were the same smiles she saw back then, only now she was apart of it. She had only been in Dan’s life for three years, but like many others on set, Rosie often found herself analyzing the trio. They were more like their characters than they’d ever admit, and more mature and humbled than they’d ever know the world found them to be. Still, no matter how many times they fought it they were part of something golden and sacred and sometimes Dan was just that same boy from the silverscreen wanting his best friends to be honest with themselves.   
  


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x. Elle   
---


	10. Next Time

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
Song: _Next Time_ -Alissa Moreno**   
  


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Dan wanted coffee. Actually, Dan always knew what he wanted, how he wanted it, and when he wanted it by. For instance, he wanted the role of Harry Potter and he got it. He also wanted Rosie, something Emma helped him get. And now, Dan wanted coffee. He wanted it and he knew he would get it, it was just everything in between that he had to figure out.   
  
Up ahead, Emma pushed Rupert away from her body, her petite arm stretched out to her side as she watched Rupert fumble to catch his footing. She watched it knowing that he’d eventually stand up straight again and walk in stride next to her. Their fingers danced against each other, and every so often they’d brush as if asking permission to hold one another. The answer to that question was always ‘no,' but like the children that they sometimes wanted to be, the answer never kept them from asking the same question repeatedly.   
  
Dan saw this, and not only wanted coffee, but for these two people to see the chemistry that sparked between them every time they smiled each other's way. He saw it, and as Rosie smiled, kicking at the cobblestone street with her flip flop, he believed she saw it as well.  
  
“What’s their deal?”  
  
Dan looked up. She did see it. “Em and Rupe?” Dan shook it off. It was one thing to want something and believe in the possibility of it eventually happening, but to admit such things out loud was almost to tell a lie. It was just not something Dan could do, nor something he was ready to admit to the world. “They’re friends.”  
  
“Daniel...”  
  
“Do you remember when I told you I thought you were beautiful?”  
  
“And I was incredibly creeped out and walked away? I was so completely caught off guard that you, out of all people-”  
  
“That’s how Rupert felt for a really long time.”  
  
“Unworthy? That’s awful...”  
  
“No, it’s human really. And Emma’s always felt the same way. The same bloody way. Why would Rupert ever see something in someone like her?”  
  
Rosie’s jaw dropped. “She’s Emma Wat-”  
  
“They’re all so insecure about the entire thing which is really curious, you see, because I’ve never seen two platonic friends be so comfortable with one another.”  
  
Rosie breathed out, blowing her lips in the process as she softened her grip on Dan’s hand. “This is fascinating.”  
  
“So Rupert’s here trying to convince himself he’s not in love with her at the same exact time as Emma is just realizing that maybe he’s perfect for her.”  
  
“Does he really not love her anymore?”  
  
Dan wasn’t given the chance to answer, thankfully. He knew the perfect response, but it wasn’t his to give. He also knew the reason it didn’t exist, why they didn’t exist, and it was present in front of them in the form of black boxes of light and flash bulbs placed haphazardly in front of their faces. Emma and Rupert noticed first, quickening their pace and slowly fading to two figures of silence and solemnity. Rupert’s hand was no longer around Emma’s shoulders. Her hands no longer grasped at his arm as they walked, legs mingling with legs, along the sidewalk. Now, the only thing Emma clung to was the cup of cocoa in her hands, as she fought the blindness she felt coming on. It wasn’t that she couldn’t see, really, it was more that she didn’t want to. She clung to her book, now nestled underneath her arm, as she weaved in and out of the crowd of the flea market. People were staring, the idea making her bite the inside of her cheek. The pain told her all of this was real, and the taste of blood against her teeth only made her smirk at the cameras as Rupert pushed her into a nearby shop.   
  
The windows were tinted and Emma could have sworn this was some seedy pub or smoke bar, but instead, her eyes settled on lace tablecloths and glittered wallpaper. Allowing her eyes to adjust to the lack of light, she recognized the apparel on the wall. The shop was separated into three different rooms, one for bras, one for panties, and another for other various sleepwear and things she’d rather not touch. Emma’s cheeks flushed and then immediately went red. Rupert’s hand disappeared from her backside as he too took note of their surroundings.  
  
“RUPES!” she screamed. “Are you kidding me!?”  
  
Rupert too was blushing. “I didn’t know that’s what this was!”  
  
“You liar!” she wailed his shoulder with her cross body bag. “Do you know how much fun they’re going to have with this?”  
  
“Almost as much fun as Rupert’s going to have seeing you in lingerie?” Dan piped in, bringing both Emma and Rupert back to reality. Apparently he and Rosie had followed them in, and with the owners now shutting the doors to increase their publicity as the celebrities looked around, they were stuck. Emma’s jaw dropped. Dan was now receiving short blows to the arm from Emma’s purse. He could have sworn he felt one of her lipsticks poking at his arm through the soft leather.   
  
Unable to speak at first, she turned back to Rupert. “You vile little...”  
  
Rupert raised his hands in protest. “Hey! I really didn’t know! I was trying to-”  
  
Emma shook her head. “Whatever.”  
  
She must have sauntered off, because Rupert was left standing in the middle room of the shop, completely out of his realm. The words that Dan had spoke rang through his head, setting off alarms from within. He remembered a time he had told Dan something, something private: a secret. It was two years ago maybe, when Rupert had first seen Emma half-naked, and she was all-knowing. It wasn’t on purpose, or at least he didn’t really think much about it. One minute she was standing in front of him in her prefect cloak with her hair pulled back and the next minute he was standing before her as she hunched over, taking her jeans off her foot, leaving her in just a bra and panties. The bra was white and the panties were lace and lavender. Of course, at the time, the two were so stunned by the unfamiliar situation that they only laughed it off. Now, in this lingerie shop, Rupert remembered every little detail about her perfect skin and the way every freckle stood out to him. He wondered if she remembered that day too.   
  
In the room full of sleepwear, Emma struggled to pick out a few skimpy items she knew would make Rupert curious. She was never one for ‘sexy’ or ‘cute’. She was always embarrassed by the way boys looked at her if she was being honest. Rupert stared too. She had caught him that day back in her trailer, staring at the way her pelvis popped out from above the lace hem of her boyshort undies. Emma remembered actually enjoying the way he looked at her. She contemplated whether she would have felt the same way if it were any other boy, maybe Dan or Tom. The thought made her cringe, but she found an answer, one she knew was hidden back in her mind even on that same day. Of course it would have felt different. Rupert wasn’t most boys.   
  
“Rupes!” Emma yelled, the red head making himself known as he appeared through the doorway. She smiled at him. “What are we going to do?”  
  
Rupert shrugged. His hands were so deep in his pockets, Emma wondered what had settled them there in the first place. Did he have this same urge that she did? Was this the stress or the atmosphere that always seemed to push them together like this?   
  
“Well, sit there.” Emma pointed to a plush love-seat outside of a dressing room. She did her best to act domineering, even using a little bit of her Hermione voice to do so. Rupert just shrugged, slumping back against the wall as he sat down. He played with his phone for a bit. He gave her a laugh and then a crooked smile. He followed, unsure of how willing this all was. He wanted nothing more than for her to tease him the way she had since they left Heathrow just two weeks ago. This was all occurring as Rupert was trying to convince himself he no longer loved her or wanted her the way they both knew he did. Or maybe Emma really didn't know, but what she did know was that she wanted him just as much. She realized it last night, as she peppered kisses to his neck long after he fell asleep. The moment killed her really, only because she itched to do so much more.   
  
The first set Emma tried on was navy and striped, with a plunging neckline. Emma only peaked her head out of the curtain that separated her and a dazed Rupert. “Wanna see?”  
  
Dan stared at the interaction behind him through the mirror ahead. He saw Rupert shake his head. The two exchanged no words, but Dan could see the way Rupert sat slack jawed as Emma disappeared behind the curtain. He was sure that if he could see her, she’d have that look of self-loathing as she once again believed that she was wanted by every boy, except the one boy she wanted to want her.   
  
It was that day, the one that Dan was supposed to keep a secret, that he realized just how perfect Emma and Rupert were, both together as friends and lovers. Just after Rupert had explained the awkward encounter, Emma pulled Dan aside, smiling as she gushed about the way Rupert looked at her. She never said that she was beginning to develop feelings for her costar, but she didn’t need to. The way Emma beamed as she laughed uncontrollably was enough emotion for Dan to decode.   
  
“Rupes...” Emma whined with her eyes. She was peaking out of the curtain again, but this time she was more carefree about what she covered up. Yes, Emma Watson was slowly becoming one of those girls who threw herself at boys. Once again she was forced to remind herself that Rupert was not just any boy. In fact, he was a man, and her best friend at that. She was not throwing herself at him but merely wishing that he’d see her as the woman she was becoming. “Will you fix my strap?”  
  
“Ems...”  
  
“C’mon,” she pleaded. “The doors are shut and we’re stuck in here anyway.” Then there it was: “We’re friends, right?”   
  
Rupert looked down remembering the other night in the bathroom. Why did she keep asking him? He nodded, giving Emma the reassurance she needed. It tasted like tequila in the back of his throat, burning. Rupert stepped into the dressing room.  
  
“What strap?”  
  
“Right here...” Emma pointed at the air.  
  
“This?” Rupert touched the silk material. Her bra was black. It matched the barely there fabric of laceback panties. Normally he’d find the piece of clothing to be too much, but on Emma it only made him want her even more. A few weeks back, Rupert thought he was making progress, but now as she stood there before him, her body present as it pressed against him and presented itself in the mirror, he was the nineteen year old boy back on set in London staring at the girl he was in love with. He swallowed, touching at the strap on her shoulders, his fingers pressed gently against her sun-kissed skin.   
  
Emma turned around, Rupert quickly removing his fingers. “No...” Emma whispered. Rupert could have sworn there was a slight moan subsiding in the back of her throat.  
  
“Ems, I-” But he couldn’t finish. Her fingers were playing at the base of his neck where little hairs grew. She ran her fingers through them, feeling his skin beneath her fingers.   
  
Rupert stood, silent and shocked. His own hands remained glued to his sides. He wanted to touch her, but was afraid of the outcome. Who was this girl in front of him? Her eyes were heavy. Her breathing quickened.   
  
Emma removed one of her hands from the back of Rupert’s neck and placed it on his cheek. “I love you.” The words fell carefully, and although Emma had heard them before, in music and movies, she felt as if she had invented them. They were the only words that made sense in the moment and she thanked God for giving her the courage to speak them. Placing her lips near Rupert’s, she breathed, sharing air with a boy she adored so much. Rupert said nothing. He stared at her lips, causing himself to lick his own. Emma’s hand traveled south, resting flat on Rupert’s heart as she moved her head, almost as if she was going to kiss Rupert. She stopped herself, resting her forehead on his chest. “I love you, Rupes. So damn much...I just can’t.” Her breathing hitched. “I can’t.”   
  
Out in the lobby, Dan stood with Rosie as she made her purchases at the front counter. He felt the mood in the shop change as he stared at a bouquet of yellow roses sitting on an end table near the dressing rooms where Rupert and Emma suddenly appeared. Both looked disappointed, but in different ways. Dan was disappointed too and he still craved coffee.   
  


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x. Elle 


	11. I Never Told You

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
A/N: Fun fact, not sure if anyone could tell but I'm COMPLETELY against Hermione/Harry and Dan/Emma. I know I've mentioned that, but I really do adore them as friends. I think it's possible for a guy and a girl to be just friends, especially considering my friends are predominantly male. Just sayin'! Also, if you're confused by the ending, read the chapter before this again. If that doesn't help, feel free to ask. It should make sense, but who knows.  
  
Song: _I Never Told You_ \- Colbie Caillat **   
  


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There was an unspoken bond between Emma and Dan, one that existed so carefully. It was similar to the one that Jo wrote about in her books, and just like that they were comfortable together in the most platonic way. It was this relationship that made Emma realize what she had with Rupert. There wasn’t a name for what those two shared, but she knew it was different. If Emma and Dan were platonic friends then her and Rupert were anything but. There wasn’t a word for it, and if there was, Emma had yet to find it. After hours spent reading and immersing herself in french romances, Emma had yet to meet another girl who reminded her of herself, with feelings so unreal, like those she had for Rupert. The only girl she knew with even similar emotions was the one she saw in the mirror back in the lingerie shop with her shoulders hanging low as she let a precious moment slip away. Emma thought she knew that girl, but as she stared at her figure, now standing in denim cutoffs back in the hotel, she only greeted her as an old friend. She was so close to moving forward today and now she found herself feeling self-conscious and naive, ready to cry in front of her bathroom mirror. She was no better or more mature than she was years ago in her trailer when Rupert first witnessed her in a similar state.  
  
“Em-” Dan pulled her out of her reverie. Emma stepped away from the mirror causing the girl within to run away. Emma didn’t bother to look back; she was sure she’d see her later.   
  
“Hey.” Her voice whispered toward him. There was a certain sadness about it, and Dan immediately took notice. Maybe she was upset that his voice was not Rupert’s. An hour ago, Rupert had left the hotel without saying goodbye to anyone. He helped Rosie bring in her bags and made a comment about how Emma didn’t have any. It made everyone but Emma smile, which only made Rupert want to leave. He grabbed a hoodie and a pair of sunglasses and did just that, slamming the door behind him as Emma ran to the bathroom to be alone. This is where Dan found her, her face sullen and her body vulnerable.   
  
“Wats.” He stepped into her, enveloping her into a hug.   
  
Emma gave in, crying into Dan’s chest. “I fucked it up, Dan.”  
  
Dan pulled away slightly, staring down at his brunette best friend. Her eyes watered uncontrollably, sending shimmers of brown specs down her cheeks. All of her makeup, the little that she wore, was now present on her face. He wanted to brush it all away but he knew that she wouldn’t let him. Emma was independent without Rupert. Without Rupert she was her own girl, her own woman: a performer and a model.   
  
Emma’s mind was so clouded that she forgot where she was, standing in the white bathroom, her blouse wrinkled as she dabbed at her cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater. She gave up, collapsing against the tub. It was still wet, or maybe it was just cold, Emma thought. She didn’t want to feel it, whatever it was. She wanted to crawl up in a ball and hug the tiles below, hoping the floor would drop out and send her flying.  
  
“Do I even want to know what happened, Emma?” Dan was sitting on the sink now, his short legs dangling over where Emma sat. She didn’t need to answer. As soon as Dan asked the question he wanted to bite it back. You never needed to know what happened between Rupert and Emma. It was always there, existing in little events. It didn’t need to be explained or explored because it could always be seen in the way Rupert fixed his hair or the way Emma nestled into him after a long day on set. It was everything Dan didn’t see behind that velvet purple curtain back in the lingerie shop. He just hoped they hadn’t left it there for good.  
  
Dan sighed. He hopped down off the counter like a little kid being called for dinner. With a similar enthusiasm, he sat next to Emma, resting his folded hands on his knees which were now pulled into his chest. They had been here many times, thought not yet to this extent. Emma often got upset over things Rupert did, though Dan was positive he was the only one that saw. If Rupert ever realized how much she ached for him, Dan knew they’d never have these little problems. Dan liked to think that they’d be together, maybe even happy.   
  
“I think Ro is the one.” This was how Dan and Emma worked. When one of them was silent, the other would fill the air with words. Sometimes they meant nothing and sometimes they exposed parts of each other only two people who had grown up together so closely could understand.   
  
Emma wasn’t sad anymore, or at least she didn’t show it. She smiled at Dan and rested her head on his shoulder. If he could be there for her when she was a mess, she most certainly could make herself available for news like this. “Dan, that’s amazing...”  
  
“You think?”  
  
“I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out!” She spoke quickly, covering up her haste with a slight chuckle. Her head rested back against the porcelain tub, Emma thought about the wedding she’d someday attend. It brought a smile to her face in pretty pastels. It also reminded her of tension, that in her neck, and the tension that existed with her body so close to Rupert’s back in the dressing room. Her smile didn’t disappear the way she expected it to. The moment between her and Dan remained but Emma was elsewhere too. She saw Rupert get hard for her and she saw the way he licked his lips as she intentionally brushed against his member. Her belly did somersaults as she stepped away from him just moments later, begging him to repeat her own words back. “Say it back, Rupes...please...please!” And then: “Please,” simply and unsuccessfully. Emma Watson was begging.   
  
He breathed deeply. “I can’t.”  
  


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x. Elle 


	12. Rescued

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
A/N: Just a reminder that this is a MATURE FF. I really don't think this applies to this chapter, although in a sense it applies to the entire FF. Rupert and Emma are adults. They're no longer the adolescents we fell in love with back in the first HP movie. I write about real emotions, real things, real ideas that I think they would have. Just keep that in mind...  
  
Song: _Rescued_ \- Jack's Mannequin**  
  


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They didn’t stay mad for long. Emma couldn’t remember a day in the past ten years where the duo had not shared one word, even the simplest of hellos. On the airplane back to Heathrow, they had fallen asleep watching a movie and when Rupert accidentally kicked Emma while trying to cross his legs and get comfortable, she simply smiled at him and continued to watch the movie. He even received a hug from her as the two departed; Emma for the United States to finalize things for college, and Rupert for home to spend some time with his family. What he didn’t see as he pulled away were more tears, streaming down Emma’s cheeks as she quickly walked away to catch her next flight.   
  
Weeks passed, then suddenly two months had gone by and they were all so quickly ushered between interviews and traveling and film sets that they hadn’t really had a chance to talk. They discussed character flaws in both Ron and Hermione as well as how tired they were and how they were both looking forward to the break they would receive around Christmas and the New Year. Emma was supposed to go see her Dad and her step-family in France and then come back to London to see her mother and brother for New Years. Rupert would be with his family as well.   
  
It was there before they knew it, their break from both filming and each other. The latter made them both sad. There was so much that needed to be said after Scotland, and so many missed moments that they let slip away out of fear and lack of time. Now, with Christmas only a day away, Rupert was enjoying sitting in his bed in sweatpants and a t-shirt as he watched a rugby game on television. His house smelled of a butter cream sauce, or perhaps a lamb marinade. His mother had done nothing but cook his favorite meals since he was let off from work a week and a half ago. His phone vibrated every so often, a text from Emma appearing on his screen. He’d text her back, not even needing to think of what to say to make her smile. Each time he’d picture her on the other line, her hair messy and perfect as she cocked her head back and chuckled. Then, the texting stopped, and Rupert grew worried.  
  
Upon returning from breakfast in the kitchen, he saw his phone light up, but not with a message, but rather a call. “Ems?!” His voice was urgent knowing all too well that hers would most likely resemble something similar to the word.  
  
“Rupes!” He heard her smile through the line.  
  
“Ems, what’s wrong?”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“Where are you?”  
  
Emma was still smiling. She loved how quickly she could get him worked up, and all for so many different reasons. “I’m in London...listen, I know it’s Christmas Eve but do you wanna meet me for a drink tonight?”  
  
“Why aren’t you in France?”  
  
“Rupes, things fell through.” She sighed. “This was stupid. Call me in the morning will you?”  
  
“No.” He heard Emma breathe deeply through the receiver. “I won’t call you in the morning and I won’t meet you for drinks.”  
  
“Rupes, you don’t have to be nasty-”  
  
“Ems, you should have called me sooner. It’s Christmas. You’re not sitting around alone.”  
  
“Rupes, I’m not alone. I’m going to open a bottle of Merlot,” Rupert smiled, her favorite. “And then pass out. I’m bloody exhausted, darling...” He loved when she called him that. It was rare, but that made the word all the more beautiful falling off her lips.   
  
“Fine.”  
  
“Really?” Emma had never heard him quit so quickly.  
  
“No. I’m on my way to get you...” He was. Already, he had grabbed his jacket from his closet and his keys from the bowl near the door. His mother was calling his name as he slammed the door.   
  
“Rupes-” The line went dead. Emma sat back on the couch in her flat hugging her phone to her chest. He was too much and they were so extremely close to being the friends they were before Scotland. Then her phone vibrated again, sending shivers up her spine. It scared her at first, but upon hearing his voice on the other end, she settled back into it all.   
  
“I’m sorry...”, he muttered. “It’s just. You’re alone, Ems...” He paused, breathing the cool December air in. It stung his lungs in the best way, like warm whiskey sour, or the butterbeer from set which he secretly hated. “Emma Watson, would you like to come spend Christmas with me and my family?”  
  
“My family and me?” Emma teased causing the line to go silent. It was her turn to hear him smile. “Rupert Grint, I would love to.”   
  


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x. Elle   
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	13. Love Is Hard

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too. ALSO, I hope nobody is offended by the inclusion of Rupert's family in this fanfic. I realize that as celebrities him and Emma kind of ask for the attention while his family does not. Let me just say that his sisters are all absolutely gorgeous and I only included them out of love.  
  
A/N: The story really starts to pick up from here, as many of you have guessed. And yes, it gets mature in every sense of the word. They are adults after all. And I'm an adult and I hope if you're reading this then you're somewhat mature to be able to handle it...whatever it is :]  
  
Song: _Love is Hard_ -James Morrison**   
  


* * *

  
  
“Bloody hell...” Rupert whispered, grabbing Emma’s bags from the back of his trunk. Ahead of him in the driveway was Georgina’s car, driven by her boyfriend. He could see his faux-hawk from through the rear view window. His sister’s bleached hair only appeared every few seconds as they detached lips. She became more visible as she placed chaste kisses to his neck before disappearing again, her head dropping behind her boyfriend’s.  
  
“Rupes-” Emma wanted to grab at his jacket but was too late. He was already trudging off toward the car, the one that he had bought for his eldest sister. He knocked on the window, Emma’s duffel bag still hanging from his shoulder. The coral canvas material clashed with his army green jacket as his knuckles clapped against the glass. “Rupes, c’mon, leave her be...”  
  
“Oi!” Rupert said a little louder, to overpower Emma and the music playing from within the car. It was The Clash, if he had heard correctly.  
  
“Rupes!” This got his attention, but only for a minute before Georgina sat up straight and rolled the window down. She was clearly not amused, but smiled at Emma all the same. Georgina and Emma were always the closest, though Emma liked to think she had a special bond with all of Rupert’s family.  
  
“What do you need?” Georgina spat out. “Hi Em!” She softened.  
  
“Must you snog in the driveway? It’s Jesus’ birthday tomorrow ‘Gine-” Rupert tried to reason as if his argument was valid, and not to be blamed on his older brother tendencies.   
  
Georgina just laughed, waving her brother off. “Just because you haven’t gotten any...”  
  
“You’re a brat, you know that?”   
  
“Ems, listen,” Georgina’s voice got serious as she hung her head out the window. Emma just smiled cautiously, loving the banter between Rupert and his sister. “I’m really sorry, like really really sorry,” she emphasized, “that you have to snog my brother. It literally sounds like a nightmare.” Emma’s eyes widened, remembering Scotland, and the other night in her trailer which she was almost certain she had blocked out. If that was true, what had Rupert told his family? Emma knew that they were close, but she most certainly did not want them knowing how much she fancied their son. Not like that, not ever. “Rupe, you left your script out on the counter.” Georgina reached down into the console and retrieved a thick stack of papers bound by a large binder clip. “I grabbed it so Char’ and Sam wouldn’t laugh at your awful notes.” A pause and then, “Really, it was out of love...”  
  
Rupert grabbed the script from his sisters hands, knowing that for once he was outdone. Similarly though, he knew that her humor and wit was all because of him, and for a moment he regretted ever teaching her so much. Rupert also knew exactly what notes she was talking about, and sadly feigned aggravation upon hearing this information. If anyone knew how he felt about Emma, it was Georgina. Rightfully so, the blonde was his closest sibling and seemingly the biggest proponent for the two getting together.   
  
As the two neared the door of Rupert’s home, Emma wrapped her arm around Rupert’s shoulders, pulling the red headed boy into her body as she kissed his temple and whispered something that would only make him laugh. He gave in, knowing all too well that his mother and two younger sisters were watching from their place in the living room. They had seen the entire moment occur, from the way Rupert opened Emma’s door, to the way Emma’s petite fingers rested perfectly on Rupert’s hips as the two entered the home and unfortunately separated.   
  
Emma said all the proper pleasantries to the entire family, even Rupert’s father who was away in the office with his head stuck in a book. No questions were asked, although several lingered on the minds of the inhabitants of the household. The main one being, when exactly were these two going to get over themselves and get together?  
  
Rupert walked down the hall, passing his own bedroom and stopping at the next door on the left; a quaint guest room dressed in a pale yellow. Emma always forgot just how big this house was, and for a second her mind traveled back to the home Rupert used to live in before he made it big. That house was large too, but it paled in comparison to the estate she was currently walking through. “I get my own room? That’s silly...”  
  
“Do you want the guest house?” Rupert questioned, unsure of what the issue was.  
  
Emma shrugged, then laughed, then sat on the plush bed behind her. With her hands in her lap, she played with her rings and spoke softly. “We have a lot to catch up on and I just thought I could sleep on your floor or something-”  
  
By now, Rupert was next to Emma on the bed, his hand on her knee. The pads of his fingers were cold but Emma wanted nothing more than for him to inch them further up her thigh. She sighed, hating herself for thinking such things. Instead, she thought of what Georgina had said back in the driveway, about Rupert being single in every meaning of the word. The idea comforted Emma the way she had always wanted Rupert to. “You’re not sleeping on the floor.”  
  
“In bed with you then?” She teased. “Rupes! It can be like old times! When we all used to do sleepovers at my mom’s!”   
  
He paused, seriously considering then and now. “Do you really think it’s possible for us to go back to all of that?”  
  
Emma thought for a second, allowing perfectly punctuated pieces of knowledge and emotion to creep into her head. She kept things like this back away behind her eyes, so only she could see what she was truly feeling. “You mean being eleven?” A pause. “Well maybe not, but you’re my best friend Rupes. And I’ve missed you so much lately...”  
  
He smiled at her, his shaggy hair falling in front of his eyes. “God, I’ve missed you too.”  
  
A calmness fell over the room as the two reveled in each other's company. Emma spoke up, but only after finding the quintessential words. “We were never just friends, Rupes. So I think that maybe the reason we’re struggling with getting back into everything, is we’re going too far back. It’s like...it’s like I met you and then we were best friends. There was no in between or a grace period. You’ve been the most constant thing in my life and I am so so grateful for you...you know that right?” She touched a palm to his cheek. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her skin against his stubble.  
  
Rupert nodded, removing Emma’s hand and kissing her cheek. She pressed her cheek further into his lips, unsure of how much she was supposed to be savoring this moment. He pulled away, but not for long. “Ems...” he breathed. She only nodded, her breathing hitched as she waited for him to do what only she knew he was asking for permission for.   
  
He kissed her, chastely at first, until his tongue slipped past her lips. Emma’s hands were in his hair now, as she stood up to reposition herself on top of him. Tension built up from over ten years pushed them back onto the bed. Emma was on top of Rupert, her skirt opening inching up as she straddled Rupert’s jean-clad legs. She always had an obsession with his legs, though she’d never tell anyone. She loved their girth and the way they allowed him to stand so sloppily. It was the latter that made Emma smile. For someone that was so incredibly put together, she loved everything about Rupert that was out of order. From his freckles to his crooked smile and the way he laughed when it was just the two of them watching BBC after midnight, she saw sides of him she was positive he only let her see, these parts that normally made him feel insecure around most girls.   
  
Rupert’s hand rested perfectly at the hem of Emma’s sweater, where only an inch or so of her pale winter skin poked out. He had only been this close, meaning both their minds and bodies were perfectly synced, one other time in his life. Of course he was talking about Scotland, but not even that was this ideal.

“Rupessss...” she moaned, slowly beginning to attack his neck. Emma knew the door was open but she only cared for brief moments. When Rupert wasn’t taking everything from her, her mind took time to recover, just barely.  
  
“Ems, we can’t...we can’t...” He sat up and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He was hard for her, something she’d count as the third time, but something he knew was merely a casualty of their friendship at this point.   
  
Emma stood up, throwing her jacket to the floor. Rupert threw his off as well, placing it on the chair near the door. “Why are you doing this?!”  
  
“Me?” Rupert spat. “Me? You almost kissed me in that shop! Not the other way around! And you were half-naked, by the way!”  
  
“Oh don’t you dare act like this is my fault!”  
  
“You’re such a tease, Ems! You’re bloody mad!”  
  
Emma stepped into him. “Me!? You couldn’t even look at me in the tub! Then I’m half naked and you willingly come into my dressing room?” She lowered her volume, remembering how close the rest of Rupert’s family was. If she knew them well, and she liked to believe she did, they were probably all in the kitchen, watching the news as Jo made dinner.   
  
“You invited me in!” Rupert scoffed. “Plus, everyone else gets to look at you, why can’t I?”  
  
“What does that even mean!?” Emma’s eyes were big now, bigger than Rupert had ever seen them. One of her fists was clenched as the other pointed straight to his nose. “I don’t ask for any of this!”  
  
“No, of course not! You’re Emma Watson, life just falls into your lap!”  
  
“You shut your mouth, Rupert! You make me so mad I could spit!” Now both fists were clenched into little balls of fury. They were arguing, sure, but both voices had been brought down to a whisper by the door still left ajar.  
  
“Me? You’re infuriating! You’re mental, really! And-” Emma lost it, laughing the way she did with him only, as she sat back on the bed and covered her mouth. She let her back drop back against the silky material of the comforter. Rupert’s warmth lingered on the bedspread as he joined her, both laughing and unsure for what reason. Emma felt nine again, back on set when Rupert seemed to get paid to call her mental. Rupert was laughing mostly because he saw no other task when she was this far into a fit. They argued like this sometimes, and this is usually how it ended. Scotland was the first time they had ever truly gotten mad at each other, and as usual, it was over feelings left unsaid. Rupert liked to think that if they were ever completely honest about their feelings, there would never be moments like this where they both loved each other so much they hated themselves. Then again, they’d probably never have any of the rest of it, Emma’s hand traveling up Rupert’s shirt as he pushed her body closer into his.   
  


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x. Elle 


	14. I Won't Let You Go

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too. ALSO, I hope nobody is offended by the inclusion of Rupert's family in this fanfic. I realize that as celebrities him and Emma kind of ask for the attention while his family does not. Let me just say that his sisters are all absolutely gorgeous and I only included them out of love.  
  
A/N: Just a reminder that this is a MATURE fanfiction. Rupert and Emma are adults. Let us respect and embrace that, shall we? Also, as promised, let me rant a little bit in relation to the picture of Emma and her new boyfriend snogging at an airport somewhere. Yes, this actually does relate to this ff. So if you care, read on:  
  
Let's get something straight, I absolutely idealize Emma in this story. If you've read my other Grintson oneshots you know that the Emma in this story is a bit different than the Emma in my oneshots. Those are based off of real life events, this is a complete figment of my imagination. I know I've said it before and I doubt any of you care but I write to deal with the fact that I often see that people should be together when they don't. Yes, I'm one of *those* girls. Needless to say, in real life, as much as I adore Emma and all that she is done, I sometimes hate her too. I think she's talented and beautiful and thin and funny and maybe even smart too (although, don't get me to discuss her and Brown...we DO NOT want to go there...) but she also irks me beyond belief. I hint at it (especially in this chapter!!!) that I think Emma's parents divorce had a big impact on her. Mind you, this is only speculation but the way she latches onto boys and so quickly gives me that impression. It's not my business. I'm the product of a somewhat broken home but her way of dealing with it is just so unfamiliar to me especially when I think that her and Rupert would be beautiful together and he could kind of fix her in that regard while she also helped to balance out his quirkiness. This rant has gone way too far, but it's just a heads up. Don't think I hate Emma; I could never hate her. I just think her choices are a bit questionable and as the friend of many boys that pine over girls that barely acknowledge they exist, I'm conditioned to be annoyed by some of the things that she does. So yes, when Rupert tells her that she's Emma Watson and that everything just falls into her lap...that may or may not be yours truly talking ;]  
  
Song: _I Won't Let You Go_ \- James Morrison**   
  


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All the Grint children seemed to be a perfect pairing of both their parents and yet none of them really looked exactly alike. Rupert and Samantha were the only ones with red-hair. Georgina was the knockout of the family, blonde and slender. Charlotte took the baby roll quite well, ironically resembling her eldest brother James the most. Oddly enough, Georgina and Rupert shared the same features, in both wit and eyes. They both had those tired eyes, and Georgina was the only Grint girl that didn’t cover her lids with dark liners and mascaras for that very reason.   
  
James was away in India, doing charity work for the holidays. Emma missed his presence, but not enough to hover on the subject for more than a few thoughts. The Grint house was still lovely as ever, the family playing some version of charades as snow fell lightly on the grass outside. Emma would have been lying if she said this wasn’t exactly what she had in mind when she first called Rupert yesterday.   
  
There were, however, a few surprises throughout the day. One being the gifts that she had received that morning after breakfast. Emma did want to be invited to the Grint’s for Christmas. After her argument with her father, she couldn’t think of a better place to seek solace. What she didn’t expect was a bottle of French perfume from Sam and Charlotte, an oversized vintage sweater from Nigel and Jo, and a Prada wallet from Georgina. Rupert got her nothing, or at least nothing was presented to her while everyone else was opening gifts. It was okay though, and actually, it made Emma smile. His gift was tucked away in the back of her suitcase with the rest of their memories that she liked to save.  
  
She loved this family as if they were her own, and sometimes she wished they were. Only Rupert understood just how stressed out Emma was by her own family, all eleven of them. The fact that it was an odd number regularly bothered Emma. Her father had his wife and family, and her brother stayed with their mother and her husband leaving Emma alone in her flat on most nights. It was an aspect of Emma nobody saw. She was completely and utterly broken by her family. It was fine, she thought. Emma would just prefer to talk about other things like the weather or her job.  
  
“Hey, you okay?” Rupert’s voice rang in the empty kitchen. It was only an hour ago that they had finished dinner and already the brass was sparkling and new again. Emma stepped out from behind the refrigerator door, carrying a pitcher of water in her hand. She went to grab a glass from the top shelf of the cabinet, but Rupert stopped her, snaking an arm around her exposed waist to move her body and grab it himself. “Here.”  
  
She looked to the ground and smiled. “Thanks, Rupes.”  
  
“Hey, talk to me.”  
  
“Want some?” Emma said, pointing to her now half-empty cup.   
  
Rupert nodded. Handing her another cup. “What happened with your dad, Ems?”  
  
“He wants a divorce from Kerry. Can we please not talk about this?” All of her words melted together.   
  
Rupert nodded. “Sure. Do you wanna go hang out somewhere just you and me? I know my family can be a bit much...”  
  
Emma pressed her hand to Rupert’s cheek, smiling all the while. “I love your family. But sure, that sounds nice.” Rupert grabbed her hand and lead her off toward his room. Once inside, he shut the door, using his backside to do so. Emma placed both her cup and his on the bedside table as she hopped into bed, quickly covering herself up with his down comforter. She was still sitting up though, the comforter just acting as a shield between her and her best friend. Rightfully so, she had wanted to reenact their kiss from earlier all day.   
  
"I got you something," Rupert said, grabbing the gift from his sock drawer. Emma wanted to laugh at his wrapping, but the mess of tape and paper only made her smirk. Her lips pursed together, she took the gift only after he offered it up. Carefully, she displaced the card, reading Rupert's chicken-scratch in a haste. He always gave the best gifts, but Emma's favorite part was unfailingly the card. Since he was fifteen, Rupert had been writing a little heart next to his name when he signed his notes. It was more prominent than other times, but here on the eggshell card stock of his homemade card, it was the only thing she wanted to stare at for the rest of the night.   
  
Finally, her fingers rested on the uneven opening of the package where there was just enough space for her to pull at the paper. It was a long, narrow box, one resembling something she'd received many times before at gift lounges. Inside, there was a simple silver chain. She recognized it upon further inspection as one she had seen out downtown the other night when her, Rupert and the Phelps boys went out for drinks. Rupert offered to buy it for her then, but she refused, instead commenting the rest of the night on how lovely the chain work was. That was back in London, and now as they sat on Rupert's bed in Hertfordshire, Emma carefully calculated the distance from there to here. It was at least a two hour drive and she wondered above all when he had the chance to purchase it.  
  
"Rupes, it's beautiful..."  
  
"Do you like it?"  
  
"You know I absolutely adore it! It's gorgeous! But when did you-?", she questioned, only receiving a smile from Rupert. In all honesty she didn't want to know, she just felt the need to ask. He never ceased to amaze her. "Wait here, I'll go get your gift."  
  
"Ems, I told you I didn't want anything-"  
  
She pressed a finger to his lips. His words stopped and he just breathed as her skin tickled his mouth. "And I know how much that necklace cost and you really shouldn't have. Now my gifts are just embarrassing, the least you can do is tell me you like it."  
  
"I'm sure I'll love it."  
  
Emma reappeared moments later, carrying two standard size boxes and one gift bag. She placed all the presents on Rupert's bed, climbing over him to eventually settle back down.   
  
He looked at the gifts, all three of them. She had made it seem like she had purchased him something simple. Then again, nothing Emma ever did was simple. She was always lost in detail, finding her way through lines and circles of patterns and memories. He remembered when she bought him a vintage bicycle from Austria for his sixteenth birthday. He still road it around on set and brought it home for summer vacations in Portugal. When he wasn't using it, it sat perfectly leant up against Emma's bike on the back lot of the studio.   
  
Rupert picked up the boxes first, unwrapping the green package before he began on the red one. Opening the box, he saw an envelope. Inside, was a membership card to Rupert's favorite golf course. "Em, this is my golf course," he emphasized.   
  
Emma shook her head, swallowing the water that was in her mouth. She set down the glass on his bedside table and leaned forward, pointing to the paper. "Well, it's for me. I want you to teach me to golf."  
  
"You bought yourself a christmas gift? And I just opened it?"  
  
"No!" She laughed, hating when he teased her like this. "The gift is you teaching me to golf! Jade always goes out on the course with Tom and I thought it would be fun. I know it's your favorite sport so I want you to teach me how to do something you love. It's about time...right?"  
  
Rupert nodded. "You really want to learn how to golf?"  
  
"Yes! Why is that so funny?"  
  
"Do you remember when we went mini-golfing in LA? You almost hit David in the face with your golf club...and you weren't even on the green."  
  
"It was mini golfing! It was a cramped space!"  
  
"Yeah....okay..."  
  
"Besides, you weren't helping much! Now you'll be there to help me."  
  
"Fine, fine!" Rupert said, still picturing himself cradling Emma from behind as he taught her to swing a club. This was his best friend, his Emma, but he couldn't shake the thought of her legs in a golf skirt and a cleats. God, he loved her legs.   
  
"Open this one next!" Emma shuffled the red package out of his hand and handed him the silver bag. "Please?," she calmed down a bit.  
  
Rupert pushed past the tissue paper, revealing a metallic-like fabric. It was a jacket, Rupert knew that much. Upon further inspection once it was out of the bag and unfolded on the bed, he admired the shiny fabric of the body, and the black lapels. It was characteristically him and he really did love it. "Ems, this is bloody amazing...where did you?"  
  
"Vintage. I did some soul searching online and found it. I just knew you had to own it!" He hugged her; he really did love the jacket. "Go! Go!," Emma said, pointing at the only remaining gift.   
  
"Should I be worried?" Rupert's thumb snuck under the tape binding the paper to the box. He slid it open a bit, just so that he could easily slide the package out, leaving the wrapping paper in it's rectangular shape. He opened it, just the way he did the last time, only this time, a sadness swept over him. He recognized the envelope as something that had been given to him a million times before, usually around award's season or when his mother was telling him about the family vacation he'd once again be late to. Emma had bought him plane tickets to Rhode Island.  
  
"Wha-?" he stammered.   
  
"I'm going to Brown, Rupes."  
  
"Brown?"  
  
"It's a uni in America. Rhode Island. It's in this beautiful town and the people are so nice and it's quiet. It's what I need, I think..."  
  
"When do you leave?"  
  
"This upcoming August. But I'll be back every so often, you know, to film and see everyone."  
  
Rupert swallowed hard. "Is this permanent?"  
  
"Well it's college, Rupes..." Emma smiled, taking Rupert's hands in her own. "But that's what the tickets are, for you to come see me"  
  
"Ems, I can buy my own tickets....why didn't you tell me?!"  
  
"I did. I just told you now. You're the first person I've told!"  
  
Rupert stood up from the bed, running a hand quickly through his day-old hair. "I'm happy for you, Ems"  
  
"Well don't lie, Rupes."  
  
"I'm not. You're bloody brilliant, you really are. I'd kill to have your brain, but that's far. The states are this different place and you still have to film. You're going to be tired all the time...as if you're not already...god, that's far..." He breathed out. By now, Emma was standing right in front of him, her hands on his shoulders as she looked him in the eyes attempting to calm him down. "You really are brilliant, Ems."  
  
"So are you Rupes. But please don't be mad at me, this is just something I have to do."  
  
"They're going to eat you alive."  
  
"Good, let them." She leaned into his body. Rupert casually wrapped his arms around her, placing his chin on her head. He could smell her lilac shampoo. It calmed his breathing, bringing him in and out of reality for only awhile before she pulled away, out of his grasp. "You get it, don't you?"  
  
"Honestly?" Emma nodded. "No...no I really don't." Emma went toward the door, Rupert only pulling her body flush against his again. He was more sexy than anyone ever gave him credit for. "But I know that this is what you want and I'm happy for you."  
  
"You mean that?"  
  
"Of course. You're more than these movies. It's bloody amazing, really..."  
  
"I love you."  
  
Rupert smiled, kissing Emma's forehead only after his mind had enough time to process her words and cause his lips to pucker. "I love you too"  
  
Emma pulled away again, her hands resting underneath his arms, rubbing slowly at the confines of his back. "No, Rupes. I love you."  
  
"Oh."  
  


* * *

  
  
x. Elle 


	15. Book Of Me And You

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too. ALSO, I hope nobody is offended by the inclusion of Rupert's family in this fanfic. I realize that as celebrities him and Emma kind of ask for the attention while his family does not. Let me just say that his sisters are all absolutely gorgeous and I only included them out of love.  
  
A/N: Just a reminder that this is a MATURE fanfiction. Rupert and Emma are adults. Let us respect and embrace that, shall we? In case you care, this was one of my favorite chapters to write. Team Rupert? Ummm, I mean...  
  
Song: _Book of Me and You_ -The Maine**   
  


* * *

  
  
His cheek throbbed, like the first time he had taken a swig of whiskey. Only this time he knew he wouldn't wake up with a hangover or a naked girl in his bed. Emma would be there, hopefully, but he doubted she would be naked. A boy can only dream so much before he gives up on such childish notions and starts seeing a girl, his best friend, as the beautiful woman she was becoming. "Oh my god, Rupes! I am SO sorry!" Her voice grew deep the more she apologized. It was as if the low tone made her seem serious, and distracted the world not from the naive girl with the quick heartbeat she felt she was meant to be sometimes.  
  
The pads on his fingers still touched his cheek. His mouth was agape, staring at Emma in disbelief. Had she just slapped him? "Wow Ems, really?!"  
  
She didn't waste time, her eyes welling with tears. "OH?!" She was only repeating his words now. "Why won't you say it back?" She was crying, anger cascading down her cheeks. Emma imagined if this was how she felt, how Rupert managed to stay calm throughout all of this, and not just the night in front of them. She suspected she had loved him (and continued to do so) for just as long as he loved her (and she hoped he could still find the courage in his heart to love her even as the side of his face stung). Rupert, however, had a better way of handling all of this, yet he was the one to come clean with his feelings first. He dropped hints effortlessly, hints that didn't make Emma uncomfortable the way the rest of the boys on set seemed to. Maybe that's why she didn't think too much into it, really. He was her best friend and he loved her more than any boy ever had. Who was she to ruin that by acknowledging that maybe she felt the same exact thing twofold?  
  
"Me?" His voice cracked. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to say that? And mean it? And mean so much more by it than you do when talking to Dan or Tom or Olly or-"  
  
"Rupes, c'mon." She attempted to step into him, but he only displaced her, stepping one foot closer to the door as she did so.  
  
"Ems, I've been in love with you since I was fourteen..."  
  
"Please don't say that." Emma was still crying, but for different reasons. This boy meant everything to her and she had let him become this broken thing because she was too afraid to love him back the way he deserved.  
  
"I'm not going to lie to you. Now you know..."  
  
Her arms were crossed over her chest now. As she tried to compose herself and steady her breath, her chest only rose and fell more, peaking out of the top and bottom of her tank top. Rupert noticed the way he always did. "I've always known."  
  
"That's comforting," Rupert deadpanned.  
  
"I was fighting it. For a really long time. I didn't want to be another statistic. Everyone wanted us to get together because of the characters we play and yeah that was nice but I grew up and started to want you for different reasons. I started to want you for the boy you were offscreen."  
  
Rupert's mouth was shut now. A cool breeze blew through the bathroom window, pushing the door to his bedroom shut. Any other time and it would have made Emma smile. Even in the dead of winter, Rupert managed to always leave a window open, and a record on his player. "You fucking kill me sometimes," he spat.  
  
They were right back in it again, blocking out the sound of "Naive" by The Kooks pouring into the room. "And I don't want that! I never wanted that! This isn't us okay? We don't fight!"  
  
All the girls in the bathroom adjacent to Rupert's bedroom nodded in agreement. They had been listening since they first heard commotion. It spread through the large house much faster than it would be given credit for. The three girls were used to it. This was a tight-knit family, one that they considered to be a stable family, despite the typical spats that occurred between the siblings and their parents. There was an unspoken bond between all of the family members, one that allowed them all to want nothing but happiness for each other. It was hard to deny that Emma wasn't a part of this plan for Rupert.  
  
When Georgina was eleven, she was sitting at the breakfast table one Sunday morning before church, waiting for the rest of her siblings to get ready for mass. Her mother casually joked with her father about the relationship between Emma and Rupert. From behind his paper, her father chuckled, insisting that her mother let them be kids. To this day, Georgina remembered her mother's response: "I will let them be kids, but kids grow up Nigel. I'm just saying that I know what I see and those two will end up together."  
  
If she was looking back on it properly, her father muttered something about things changing and just letting life happen. As Georgina grew up, she did see the way the relationship between Rupert and Emma change, as both teens grew into young adults and matured. Things did change, her father was absolutely right. But so was her mother, and the rest of the children followed in suit, believing this was just how things were supposed to be.  
  
"Who says who we are Em?" He was angry, or maybe just hurt. Emma couldn't remember the last time she had seen him muster up enough emotion for either feeling. At one time she'd be telling herself that was why she loved Rupert, because he was happy and content and forever grateful. Now she'd be lying if she said she didn't want to love this part of him too, and that as his face grew more red and his voice hoarse, she was quickly falling in love with this version of the boy in front of her, whoever he was.  
  
The reason she excused it was perhaps something she had always overlooked; Rupert went out of his way to love her and Emma did everything in her power to excuse it. She always made fun of him for being so easy-going, even to the point of quoting movie lines about teaspoons and sentiment offset. Maybe she was the one with a lack of capacity to love and now it was her turn to fight, and maybe actually feel something in the process. "I do. This isn't what I want and I know you and I know this bothers you too!"  
  
"You don't know me, Em. If you did-"  
  
She cut him off. How dare he. If Emma was stable and consistent with anything in her beautifully chaotic life it was Rupert. He really was her rock. "Yes I do!" she fired back. "Don't you dare Rupert!" A pause, just enough time to soften up. "Why are you being like this? What did I do to you?"  
  
"I couldn't wait for ever. And now that I'm done waiting for you I'm just waiting to get over you. While you live your life and date other people and I'm just stuck." He breathed for maybe the first time that night. "I fucking hate you sometimes."  
  
"Rupert, please..." She grabbed his hand, something he quickly let go of. If only it was this easy for his heart to do the same.  
  
"I mean that in the best way. I just can't do this anymore. The fighting, the tension, any of it!"  
  
"Will you talk to me?" She was sobbing now. Rupert didn't know the difference really, but her cheeks were more wet and her breathing more ragged.  
  
"What do you think I'm doing? Excuse me for being a tad frustrated!" If this was any other time he thought that maybe he'd be crying too at the mere sight of Emma in this much pain.  
  
"Fine, I'll go..."  
  
"No, we're going to talk about this, Emma."  
  
"Don't call me that out of spite, Rupert! You know I bloody hate that shit." She wiped at her eye, pushing past him. "I'm done talking about this."  
  
"I'm not!" He wasn't yelling, but his voice was not calm either. It was the perfect storm of disappointment in audio form.  
  
"Good...then I guess this is just another thing you'll have to wait on." Emma closed the door behind her fleeting form as she disappeared into the hallway. Georgina, Sam, and Charlotte all made use of themselves in the bathroom as they busily brushed their hair and flossed their teeth pretending they didn't just hear every last detail of their brother's love life. It was a long time coming in this family for they had seen it all. Georgina, specifically, remembered all of it, from her brother falling in love to where they were now. She didn't have a name for it, and she doubted if she would ever be able to explain it to anyone else. This happened sometimes, or so she told herself, where you love someone so much, it blurs the line of hate. When feelings don't align with reality and you're stuck on this oddly placed precipice of want and need, with need being the thing that pushes you off toward the rough waters of want at the bottom. She imagined that this is how they felt, and she saw it in Emma's eyes as the blonde smiled her way and retreated to her bedroom.  
  
If she could see her brother now she imagined he'd be up against his bedroom door, pounding at the wood with his fist and maybe even crying. Rupert felt more than anyone gave him credit for and if anyone knew that, it was Emma. This wasn't a romantic comedy and Georgina didn't want it treated as such. If that were truly the case, the two of them would have admitted their feelings long ago and gotten on with their lives as one. Still, she wondered what had kept Rupert from chasing her down as Emma fought the ridiculous urge she had to kiss him full on the lips.  
  


* * *

  
  
x. Elle


	16. What If You

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too. ALSO, I hope nobody is offended by the inclusion of Rupert's family in this fanfic. I realize that as celebrities him and Emma kind of ask for the attention while his family does not. Let me just say that his sisters are all absolutely gorgeous and I only included them out of love.  
  
A/N: Just a reminder that this is a MATURE fanfiction. Rupert and Emma are adults. Let us respect and embrace that, shall we?  
  
Song: _What If You_ \- Joshua Radin (how gorgeous is this song? It absolutely reminds me of these two...especially in this scene!)**   
  


* * *

  
  
Instead of falling asleep, Emma began to count the number of times Rupert had seen her without makeup. She was surprised to find that it was almost as many times as he had seen her freshly out of makeup and wardrobe. She couldn't remember what had made her think of such a thing but she imagined it was related to the compulsion she felt to go into his room and make up in a different sense.   
  
The only other time they had fought over something to this extent was at Emma's sixteenth birthday party. Rupert had brought another girl, a colleague from his most recent side project. She was just a friend, and Emma knew that. But Kimberly looked like a woman, and in Emma's naive eyes, she fit with Rupert far more than Emma ever did. Emma remembered feeling especially gawky that year as her boobs grew and the rest stayed exactly the same; lanky and fine-boned. She didn't fill out her black silk dress the way she was supposed to and because of this she hated Rupert for bringing Kimberly there, in her clothing from set, looking more mature than Emma could ever hope to.   
  
When the paparazzi followed her home that night, they snapped photos that for once she agreed with. They captured her mood perfectly; discontent and bitter. Magazines speculated that her anger was either toward the photographers themselves or, for those who wanted to think they paid attention, because Rupert and Dan had missed the gathering due to shooting conflicts. The former was factual, but the latter, just barely. Rupert was there, but after he arrived with someone that was not Emma, she had wished the rumors were true.  
  
It didn't help that this was the same year she had to watch her close friend Jessie kiss Rupert nineteen times for something David liked to call "good measure". He teased her about it for weeks leading up to and following the incident. After watching Rupert and Emma interact professionally and then as Ron and Hermione, he saw more than most on set. Sometimes, he found himself giving them stage directions for life. _Kiss her here_ or a simple _tell him how you feel_.  
  
At one point throughout the night, Emma saw a shadow cast itself over the door, making the opening between the floor and door jam appear to be clouded. It disappeared though, only after she heard Mrs. Grint's voice in the hall, followed by an echo of silence. It could have been anyone in this house, but Emma so desperately wanted it to be Rupert.   
  
Giving up after about an hour of counting moments, Emma pushed back the covers. She stood, hunched over the bed, doing her best to make the bed look just as it was before she collapsed onto it earlier that evening. She clicked the light on the desk, illuminated the small area separating the closet and the rest of the room. She grabbed for her long grey sweater, the one that looked like a warm blanket on her petite body. Normally she wore it with skinnies and flats, but now she stood casually in a white tank top and white boy shorts. The fabric of the sweater hit her right below her bum and as she walked, just enough of her backside appeared to be tasteful, but teasing.  
  
She closed her door behind her, her forehead nearly knocking against the wood. "Took you long enough." Emma quickly turned around, bracing herself against the hallway. Georgina stood at the door to her room, her arms crossed over her chest. In juxtaposition with Emma, her hair was messily placed atop her head and her pajama bottoms were striped and wrinkled. "Oh, go on. I'm not going to tell. Although, my mum would murder you both..."  
  
"Em, where are your pants?" That had to have been Charlotte. Always the wise-ass of the family. Emma smiled. Where could she have possibly gotten that from?  
  
"Will you both shush? Your brother and I are just-"  
  
"Friends. We know!" Sam piped in from her place tucked away in the office, her face glued to a lit up computer screen. "Whore!"  
  
"Samantha!" Georgina yelled down the hall.  
  
Emma just laughed. Just as she'd grown up with Rupert, she had seen all of these girls grow up as well. The first time she had met the family, Charlotte was only two. That seemed like a lifetime away, when she was just a little bushy-haired girl wondering around trying to figure out acting and press. The same little girl that attended tutoring sessions with a boy who made her laugh so hard they both barely learned anything. They rode horses through the country side and played on the trampolines of the back lots. Years later they'd ride bikes through the great hall after midnight, and both watch as the other got their license, Rupert of course mercilessly teasing Emma for her poor technique. Even that seemed so far from where she was now, half-naked walking in her best friend's house at three in the morning as his sisters speculated.   
  
At Rupert's door, she stopped herself. Georgina, and Charlotte had disappeared back into the office with Samantha, a small giggling could be heard echoing throughout the otherwise quiet home. Emma was nervous, and her hand shook. She reached for the brass door knob, carefully, feeling a slight push as she did so.   
  
He was there, sleeping so perfectly on his side. His eyes were closed and he used both his arms as a pillow. This was Rupert's typical sleeping position and something she'd never tire of seeing. He had fallen asleep on her more times than he'd want to admit. It was always him who was commenting on her exhaustion as he lived life blind to his own. They were both tired in every sense of the word.  
  
For a moment, she stood there, the curtains of the two windows slapping at the wall as a wind blew through. She contemplated leaving, but then stopped. Emma felt like a jolted nerve. She would always be that little girl meeting Rupert's family. That was who she was then and that was the girl she always wanted to be; shy and composed like an early Autumn day.   
  
"Are you going to get in?" She must have been staring at the carpet. Emma was completely caught off guard by Rupert's voice, husky and sonorous. He had already moved over in bed. Rupert's bare arm grabbed at the comforter, pulling the material up so Emma could slide in. She did, only after dropping her sweater to the ground. Rupert's jaw echoed the motion of the material, staring at how ideal she was.   
  
She quickly nestled into him, her olive skin contrasting with his pale complexion almost immediately. Rupert dropped the comforter, and with it, his arm pulled her closer to him. Her body was perfectly flush against his own. He was wearing boxers underneath his sweatpants, but that didn't keep Emma from running her legs against his, sending his member jolting forward every so often. Emma never felt in control with George or Jay. Sometimes, she didn't feel anything. Maybe that's why she loved her time with Rupert so much. She was given control when she needed it, and only lost it when he was there to help her safely back to the ground.   
  
No words were exchanged at first. Rupert's fingers danced on Emma's shoulders. Light from the skylight hit her neck perfectly and Rupert ached to kiss it all away. This was the closest they had been in quite some time. After the light from above disappeared and the moon shifted, Emma gave up on sleep. She had so much to say and somehow felt as if time was being pulled out from under her. She could only improvise so much before the sound of her heart breaking kept Rupert awake too. "Rupes, I want you to fall in love with me again. Please. Please don't tell me I've really fucked this up, okay? I'm trying..."  
  
He sighed and possibly even pulled her closer. "I never fell out of love with you Ems. And that's what scares me. I tried too. I'm still trying. And it's impossible. And I'm so scared that when this all ends we're going to disappear and I don't know if I can handle that." Both were still staring ahead at the door.   
  
"Thank God," Emma thought, a single tear strolling down her rosy cheek. "I'm not going anywhere."   
  
"Rhode Island, Ems...goddamnit you're going to be an ocean away."  
  
"So are you," she pointed out.   
  
"Ems..."   
  
Emma turned over now. Rupert's hand remained above her head on the pillow. His other arm was still resting on her waist, pulling her into him once more. This time, his fingers played with the soft cotton of her camisole. She was in his grasp now.   
  
"I love you Rupes. I don't know how long I have or for what reasons but I do. And I can't shake this feeling that we're supposed to try this out. And if it doesn't work, then fine. But I mean it when I say I love you. It's all I know sometimes. And you're my best friend. That's never going to change."  
  
"American boys love you." Emma smiled. She shook her head too, inching closer to Rupert so that her head was in the crook of his neck. He was engrossed with her body and the way it settled right into his. Rupert never saw himself as built well, but Emma didn't seem to complain. He was perfect for her, in the way that only she could understand. It was something Rupert would have to raise his hand to as she played with his abdomen, her finger tracing lines up and down his happy trail.   
  
"And I'll tell them all about this boy back in London who's waiting on me..." Her eyes were heavy now. The weight they held could tell a thousand stories of times she let go. Rupert guessed that for every missed moment they had, Emma had them all kept in a safe place, somewhere behind her temples. If what she was saying was true, he'd do his best to recall all those times he wanted her it hurt.   
  
"Are you going to give this boy a chance then?" Now it was his chance to tease, if only a little.  
  
She pursed her lips. No noise was elicited from her mouth, nor did she breath audibly the way Rupert had seen her do so many times before. "If he gives me a little bit more time, I'm his."  
  
"Promise?" He perked up in more ways than one.  
  
Emma looked up to him, this man that she could no longer control herself in front of. She kissed him the way he deserved to be kissed. It left them both breathless as they organized their need for more. "Goodnight, Rupes."  
  


* * *

  
  
x. Elle 


	17. They Weren't There

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too. ALSO, I hope nobody is offended by the inclusion of Rupert's family in this fanfic. I realize that as celebrities him and Emma kind of ask for the attention while his family does not. Let me just say that his sisters are all absolutely gorgeous and I only included them out of love.  
  
A/N: The story really starts to pick up from here, as many of you have guessed. And yes, it gets mature in every sense of the word. They are adults after all. And I'm an adult and I hope if you're reading this then you're somewhat mature to be able to handle it...whatever it is.   
  
Song: _They Weren't There_ -Missy Higgins**   
  


* * *

  
  
There was a crook in his neck, yet Rupert was comfortable. His arm had fallen asleep before Emma did but he was fine with it's position, which was ultimately the same position it kept all night. Emma wasn't as restless as Rupert had imagined her being and because of that, he remained still for most of the night as well. He knew this because he had watched her sleep many times in her trailer. She'd often fall asleep on his lap, her chestnut hair fanned out in his lap, frizzing itself as she turned and squeezed her tense body this way and that through its own sleep cycle.   
  
For the first time, almost eight months ago, Emma fell asleep in a trailer that was not her own. It surprised him at first, something that caused him to stare at her as if she was a clone of herself, like he was waiting for genetic mutations of herself to present themselves. But no, not once did she flinch in her sleep, and for the first time, he even saw a dream etch itself across her face. She had this aversion to falling asleep in front of others because she was afraid of what her body would do when it was no longer hers. Emma rarely slept as it was, and the exhaustion must have overcome her. One moment they were going over lines, an argument, if Rupert remembered correctly, and then she was asleep, her nostrils flared slightly as her breathing began to quicken.   
  
At the time, Rupert was reading Tolstoy, or maybe even Dumas or Hugo. As interesting as it all seemed to be, her ears fluttering as she sighed into what could have been a nightmare, he found much more fascination with her eyelashes and how small she seemed to be just sleeping. Looking back on it, Rupert didn't remember her waking up, but he remembered the smile she had right before and the look of apathy that overtook her as she sat up quickly and remembered she was due in wardrobe exactly twelve minutes ago.  
  
This wasn't like this, and in fact, it wasn't like anything Rupert and Emma had ever shared together. In the same breath, Rupert had never experienced this closeness, emotion and all, with anyone else causing him to wonder (and hope) if the same was true for Emma. He also began to ponder if she had woken up at all in the middle of the night, an in an effort not to wake him, just stared at him, his eyelids fluttering too, as she coerced herself back into a slumber.   
  
Finally, she turned over, and for the first time her hand was no longer clasped in Rupert's. The loss of contact made her mouth coo as she slowly opened her eyes. She saw only the windows on the opposite side of the room. They were closed and Emma wondered when Rupert had closed them and if she was to blame. She remembered being cold for a bit last night, but that slowly dissipated and she could have sworn it was Rupert's bare chest that helped it to happen.   
  
She rolled over, leaning into Rupert who faked exhaustion as he smiled at her. She knew he had been watching her, the way he always did when she slept. Still, it wasn't something to tease him about; it was one of her favorite things they did together. She'd sleep and he'd stare, indifferently at first, and then he'd cock his head to truly get into the activity. Sometimes she'd sleep just to know that he was watching her all the while.   
  
Emma slung her arm over him. Her thumb played with the hardened planes of his upper chest. "Good morning." She kissed his cheek.   
  
"Hi Ems, Sleep well?"  
  
She nodded. "Mhm. You?"  
  
"Of course," he mumbled. In all honesty, Rupert hadn't gotten that much sleep but he felt rested and for the first time, the girl he woke up to was gorgeous, and for now, she was his. He never felt that with the others, if they slept long enough to see him in the sunlight. "Want breakfast?"  
  
"I need to shower first..."  
  
"Ems, it's my family-" But she was already off, tying up her hair as she grabbed for her discarded sweater from the floor. The material was cool as she threw it over her arm and walked to the bathroom. She could feel his eyes upon her backside. She almost regretted closing the door, but there were pieces of her she wasn't ready for him to see yet.  
  
Rupert threw the covers off his body. He walked to his closet, grabbing a grey v-neck from the pile of freshly folded clothing on top of his armoire. It wasn't his favorite shirt, and on most days, he hated its plainness, but he knew that Emma loved it. It's location in his closet was too much for a kid like Rupert with tired eyes and a heavy heart to argue with.   
  
Once the material found its way over his head, Rupert snaked his arms through the sleeves and quickly retreated out the door of his bedroom. He could already smell golden brown starch and fresh fruit, wafting its way through the house. His mother always made the best breakfast the morning after Christmas day. It was a way to tell her kids that even if it wasn't a holiday, it was still time to celebrate. A few years ago, Rupert made fun of his mother for saying such a thing, but now, the sentiment mattered. The time and effort she put into something as small as breakfast was something he'd always be grateful for. His mind traveled to the girl in his bathroom, barenaked and soapy. He had never had breakfast at her house, and he wondered what an event like that would consist of.   
  
Entering the kitchen, his sisters nodded his way, already drinking their tea and reading the paper with their father. His mother stood in her signature spot at the stove, with a dishrag haphazardly thrown over her shoulder as she flipped waffles and tended to the eggs. Upon seeing her youngest son, she grabbed his face and kissed his cheek. For a second Rupert did the math, breathing out as he realized it was his other cheek that Emma has kissed.  
  
"Rupert, dear..."  
  
"Did you make beans?"  
  
"Darling, you know I love Emma right?"  
  
He nodded, knowing that not only did his mother love Emma, but wanted her as her own. Emma was a commodity in this family. Sometimes he was even sure his family loved her more than they loved him. When he mentioned this to them at one point, their silence did nothing to convince him otherwise. "I love-" But he stopped himself, not wanting to admit something he already knew to be true. There were secrets Rupert kept. He didn't have many, but the few he had, he held close to him like memories on set or her stunning smile etched in the back of his mind. This was one of them, one that he thought he had kept true to its name; saying it aloud was like breaking a promise. "Mom..." He knew exactly what she was about to say.   
  
"Was Emma in your bed last night?"  
  
"Well when you put it like that it's..."  
  
"Rupert, darling, I'm trying to treat you like an adult so please don't give me lip-"  
  
"I'm not." He sighed, then nodded, then poured himself a cup of coffee. He sipped at the black mixture, perfect and warm. "Yeah, she was." He was emotionless.  
  
"You know your father and I don't approve of that. I know it's Emma and I trust you two, it's just with the girls, I don't want them thinking you're get any preferential treatment..."  
  
"Got it, Ma."  
  
"Rupert."  
  
"I said I got it. Can we please not talk about this? This is awkward, Ma..."  
  
"Yeah yeah, whatever...go get me the butter from the fridge, will you?"  
  
Rupert obliged, handing his mother the freshly churned substance before finding his spot at the table. He sat on the same side as Georgina, leaving Samantha and Charlotte on the other side with an empty chair for James. All the girls, with their hair disheveled and dull, had their noses stuck in magazines and newspapers. Georgina tapped away at her phone, something Rupert couldn't distinguish between Tetris or texting.   
  
"'Gina, pass the sugar, will you?"  
  
Without looking up, the blonde complied, blindly grabbing for the sugar cubes in the middle of the table and handing them to her brother. Still staring intently at her phone, she spoke. "Did you fuck her?"  
  
"Georgina!" Rupert yelled, getting the attention of the entire room. He thanked God Emma was still in his room, most likely in a towel. He wished he had given her more to shield herself from his family.  
  
"Well did you? I didn't hear-"  
  
"'Gina, we're done talking about this."  
  
"I'm not. You two totally had that hatefuck look last night. Well, Em did. I just thought..."  
  
"You thought wrong. Seriously, this conversation is over."  
  
"Oh my god big bro, you're soooo sensitive" She put a palm to the table, using the mahogany to prop herself up onto her feet. "She wants you!" she teased, singing in Rupert's ear as she walked away.   
  
"Finally." Sam added. Rupert did nothing but sip at his coffee, feeling the warmth tickle his taut cheeks. His family knew a lot, but really, they barely knew anything. The history between him and Emma was enough to bring anyone to their knees.   
  
"Oh look, Rupe you're in this-" Charlotte was cut off by Samantha, jabbing at her side. Georgina was back at the table rather quickly, too afraid to miss what her sister was referring to.   
  
"I don't want to see it. I really don't."  
  
"I do." Emma sat down next to Rupert, her hair damp, pulled back into a perfect chifon on the top of her head. Her bangs were dry and her makeup was done, leaving Rupert to wonder why she ever put it on in the first place. Emma was beautiful, and just like her looks, that was an understatement. It was true that Rupert preferred quirky over pretty, but that battle between personality and features was sometimes what kept him awake at night. Emma was both offbeat and gorgeous. She made other girls jealous and rightfully so; she had found a way to be idiosyncratic enough so that she was down to earth, leaving every conversation with a smile so as always to be forgiven if her wit didn't pull through. Last night, Rupert found himself waiting for that smile to appear and make everything better. She was right; they didn't fight, and this wasn't them. He wasn't sure if he could handle it if it were.   
  
Everyone was seated at the table now, safe for the one empty chair that would normally be James'. "Girls, magazines and phones, please."  
  
The girls groaned. Samantha handed her phone to Georgina who placed it on the countertop behind her head. Charlotte, however, remained engrossed in her magazine for just a moment longer.  
  
"Charlotte Emilia, please give me the magazine..." It was Mr. Grint this time. He knew that for his daughter to be this enveloped in a magazine was never a good thing; it only peaked his wife's curiosity even more.  
  
Emma whispered something to Rupert. She only received a shrug in response, something she could slap him for this early in the morning. He knew she hated indifference before 9 AM. She also hated how it felt as if she was the one being yelled at. The name, the tone, was all characteristically her own father, and so incredibly out of character for her best friend's father. Charlotte obeyed, the way Emma would have eventually done after hours of fighting and rebelling. She handed over the magazine to her father who did nothing but throw the shiny paper to the floor. It landed more softly than it would have if Emma's father was the one to throw the material. It was then that she was reminded why she adored spending time in this household: it was the normalcy of it all.   
  
Samantha, who had only just whispered to Charlotte, asking her younger sister about the contents of the tabloid, laughed loudly. Through her giggle, the words "lingerie shop" and "holy hell" could be heard quite clearly, prompting Georgina to glare at Rupert and Emma and her mother to raise her hands in protest. "I don't want to know. Can someone please pass the pepper?" Samantha and Charlotte were even further in their fit now. Georgina fought hard to turn around and glance at the magazine on the floor. The sunlight from the bay window behind her father hit the pages faultlessly. It illuminated the paper, making all of it seem like it was on fire, bursting into little flames that never quite seemed to smoke. Luckily for Emma, her rosy cheeks still overtaking most of her face, the light blinded most of the pages. All but one seemed to be whited out. It was a picture Emma never wanted the world to see, her eyes sad, as she wiped at a single tear, looking straight ahead at the cameras. They weren't supposed to capture her like this, and she remembered glaring at them, and scolding herself for their choice of invasion. She could have sworn they were too busy snapping a frustrated Rupert, his shoulders slumped as his body walked away from Emma and all that they had left in the dressing room. Clearly she was wrong, as she was the thing being zoomed in on. Her body echoed Rupert's, lazy and tired. She looked awful, if she was being honest. She wondering, for only a moment, if Rupert had lied to her that day when he told her she was beautiful. She hoped not, for she really wanted to believe it.   
  


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x. Elle 


	18. American Secrets

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
A/N: Sometimes I feel bad because these chapters may seem like fillers, but please keep in mind that I'd never write something that doesn't mean something much more than what's on the surface.   
  
Song: _American Secrets_ \- Parachute**  
  


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There were 37 stop signs and 24 rotaries that separated Rupert's home from Emma's flat. Thankfully for them, Rupert had a kindness for driving, and a never-ending hankering to see his costar. Luckily, Emma was always pleased to see her best friend, and eager to sit in his car and watch him drive.   
  
After the seventeeth rotary, Emma rolled down her window, letting the cool winter air grace her cheeks. Her lips went dry, but the air tickled in a way that she needed. There was too much on her mind for this to be let go, and she wondered if Rupert was left curious as well. After breakfast that morning, she packed her bag slowly, not wanting to go back to her flat. It would be cold, no doubt, and she dreaded the unfamiliar feeling after two and a half warm days spent with Rupert by her side. If she could recall correctly, she'd like to think this was her best Christmas yet.   
  
"Rupes..." She said his name as if it was a question she never needed an answer to. "Did you see the magazine?" He hadn't. She knew that. It remained where his father had thrown it until they left. Rupert honestly hoped that the sun had begun to bleach the pages in his absence. No matter how many times he told Emma to ignore what the papers said, she was always curious. She hated not knowing what others thought of her, and then she hated herself for caring after she found out. "Do you think that maybe they know?"  
  
"Know what? We're not dating." His words were biting and he quickly wanted to bite them back.   
  
"No, you're right. We're not..." Her voice trailed off. She returned to letting her fingers dance in the wind. Only three more stop signs before they'd be home. She dreaded the loneliness that her flat would welcome her with. Was it too much to ask him to stay? "They're bloody intrusive. I don't even think they mentioned that we weren't there alone. Dan and Rosie were-"  
  
"Ems, don't listen to them. Besides, they probably knew they were there and left them out to get a better story. C'mon, love, you know how they are..."  
  
"I hate them, I really do."  
  
"They hate us too, it's fine." Rupert chuckled. Surely the paparazzi didn't hate them, and most of the time when he was with Emma, they all seemed to be fascinated with their relationship in the same way extras on set couldn't stop staring at the two during filming. It was just one of those things he wanted Emma to stop thinking about. Rarely did he loathe hearing her voice, but sometimes he wanted her to slow everything down. She was the antithesis of him when it came to concentration. Her mind went to sensible things that drove her up a wall, while Rupert preferred to run away from anything that made him wince or squirm. For a boy like him, it was odd to most people that certain things would make him feel uncomfortable. On more than one occasion he caught himself deeming his own actions "awkward" to excuse the way people looked at him when he let the occasional unusual idea slip. Emma and Dan never seemed to bat an eye or even question his thoughts. Emma especially accepted his ideas as her own, as things to play around with between scenes.   
  
At the last stop sign, Rupert tapped at his directional, waiting for his turn, then taking a left onto her street. At the gate, he pushed in her code, always loving the clicking noise the gate gave back to him after the code was deemed correct. Dan didn't know the code, Rupert knew that, and he relished in that fact for quite some time when the information was passed on to him. "Let me help you inside?" Emma nodded. She went to grab for her door handle but stopped herself. This was also something Rupert loved to do for her, because he knew it was another thing she'd only give him the privilege of performing.   
  
At the door, Emma spoke. "Do you wanna come in?"  
  
"You hate it, don't you?" Emma looked around, unsure of what he was referring to. She fixed her hair, immediately becoming self-conscious. He would never, and yet sometimes he did. "You hate that they could ever think we'd be together, don't you?"  
  
"Rupes..." She went to touch his cheek, as if expecting him to melt into her palm causing his question and all of the doubts it was encourage by, to dissipate. "Of course not!"  
  
"No, you do."  
  
"You're my best friend, Rupert! Don't you get what that means to me? How can I explain this to you anymore than I already have?"  
  
"I don't know Ems! I'm trying to get it but I just don't. Why are you so embarrassed of this?"  
  
"Because I've seen the way they speculate! I saw what they said about Jay and I never want them to say that about you. Jesus, Rupes, please see how hard I'm trying here!"  
  
"No, you're right. I'm sorry." He pushed past her, using her own keys to open up the door to her flat. It was a modest living space, decorated in soft neutrals with little pops of color here and there. He hated it really. It was colder than he ever could have imagined, and yet it made him want to stay. He wondered how she could let the person the world thought her to be affect her home like this. The dullness of the paint and the stale air made him want to step outside of himself and this argument to make her laugh.   
  
He quietly put her bags down and turned back to look at her. He had made her cry more in these past couple of months than he ever had before. Actually, he had never made Emma cry before. The other night was the first time, or so he thought. Rupert would never tell her, but he saw the little bit of the magazine that he hoped had found its home in the trash by now. He saw the tear sliding down her cheek and hated himself for noticing nearly two months after the fact. If it were up to him and he was allowed to be selfish, he would have taken advantage of her back in that dressing room. That was what she wanted, and if he was being honest with himself, it was all he craved (and had been craving) since it happened. That was not Emma, or at least he was not ready to see her in that light. Not under those circumstances, and not when her heart was winning over her head.   
  
No, Rupert wanted Emma to want him just as he wanted her, when his head and his heart had finally agreed on something for the first time in his life. He wanted her to feel that peace that he felt, every time he held back or made her laugh. Rupert wanted nothing more than for the girl he loved, to love him back. But only under the right circumstances and at the perfect time.   
  
Emma still said nothing, after about a moment wasted in quietude. Rupert instead, reached forward, kissing her full on the lips. It left her breathless, and almost took her off her feet. If it weren't for the flats she wore, she was sure she would have sent herself tumbling into him, just to see if he'd catch her the way she wanted.   
  
Just as he went to pull away, she strengthened the grip her hands had on the back of his neck. Rupert was forced to settle back into the kiss as Emma found herself smiling through it. Her door was still open, but she didn't care. Her neighbors could think what they wanted. She was losing control the more she fought for dominance. His tongue licked at her lips, only causing her to part them even more.   
  
"You're mine." Emma whispered, causing Rupert to grow hard. "I'm sorry this is so difficult, but you know I love you, right?" He nodded, nipping at her lips again. "God, Rupes." They continued for a bit, and then he was gone, heading home. Rupert let the tranquility of the air conditioning hitting the steering wheel push him further off down the road. Desperately, he wanted to stay and maybe even finish what they had started. Closing her door and sinking down on her staircase, Emma wanted the same exact thing. If only she could get her heart to where his was; levelheaded and sure.   
  
The rest of her night was filled with a greek salad, the news, and self-loathing. There had to have been something holding her back from letting Rupert give her everything she ever wanted and now, as she realized earlier at the door, everything she needed. He was her everything, defining best friend the way nobody else ever could. There were no words to describe the way Rupert made Emma feel, but she hoped that he had found a few that would suffice when thinking of how he felt about her. She decided, slowly at first, that she needed to let go of the doubts that kept her rooted to the ground. If Rupert truly held this title she so confidently gave him, then he was worth it. She trusted him not to break her heart, and knew for a fact that it would never get to that point. The person Emma did not trust, was herself. As familiar as Rupert was, the person she was around him was someone completely new. It scared her that he made her feel so incredibly comfortable, so much so that she let her guard down and could be herself. Yet the person she saw when she was herself, was a girl she didn't quite know. And actually, if Emma was attempting at being honest with herself, she was slightly scared by this girl and intimidated too, by the hold she had over Rupert.   
  


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x. Elle   
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	19. Save Your Heart

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
A/N: Just a little bit of language in this one. Nothing too intense, I don't think.  
  
Song: _Save Your Heart_ -Mayday Parade**   
  


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When the best friend Emma spoke of was not Rupert or Dan, it was usually Sophie. The two were complete opposites, but they grew up together, in loveless families with big homes. There was a bond between them, for this reason. They never felt as if they owed things to one another, and whenever one needed a friend, the other was always there to pick up the pieces. For Emma, that usually meant making sure Sophie always made it home safely after a night of partying, one of her favorite hobbies. For Sophie, it was simpler, or at least most would think so. Sophie would argue, however, that keeping her best friend's heart sacred was a tough task. Emma never realized her worth and was never vulnerable enough to allow the boys that loved her show it to her. Sophie was always the final say on boys and love for Emma. She had an eye that Emma only wished to have. Above all, she genuinely cared for Emma.  
  
Jay was always her family's favorite, so naturally Sophie took to hating him. He was boring and meek, like reading the Sunday times or waiting for a train on a Tuesday afternoon. He treated Emma well, but did nothing more than Emma could ever do for herself. Sophie ended that relationship for Emma, after admitting to her best friend during a drunk binge just how much she hated the bloke.   
  
Then there was George, someone Sophie fancied a little too much. When Emma seemed to settle with the musician, Sophie immediately raised the white flag on the relationship. He was nice and he made her laugh, but so did many of Emma's platonic friends. Words were unnecessary because the two never officially dated. Although nobody would ever know, and Emma and Sophie rarely discussed it, Sophie and George sleeping together was what ended that relationship for Emma. In Emma's eyes she gave up the boy she thought she liked because he was a boy that made her best friend happy. Sophie let Emma believe what she wanted, and for that reason, she never once regretted spending a Friday night with George. If Emma wanted to blame the separation on Sophie, then she was prepared to let that happen. Sophie knew the real reason, and it was a boy with shaggy red hair and a contagious smile.   
  
Every Saturday, mostly on Holiday or when Emma just happened to have a day off, the two girls headed downtown to their favorite flea market. It was a serious flop usually, the streets lined with cheap antiques and jewelry that could easily be confused for household trash. There favorite coffee shop was nearby, and after an hour or two of enjoying the subdued city streets, the two girls usually found themselves hidden in a back corner drinking cappuccino and catching up. Today was no different. Emma was bundled up, her hair falling loosely around her large scarf and cardigan. She loved London in the wintertime, just as long as she wasn't caught in the cold, her body shivering against the blue air.  
  
Emma was exceptionally quiet, something Sophie refused to blame on the cold. A hungover from last night kept her from caring, but after a few minutes spent sipping awkwardly at hot beverages, she refused to let it go any further. "What is it?"  
  
Emma put her cup down, the porcelain clinking against the small lilac plate it was delivered to her on. "What?" She pulled her gaze away from the window, where a man outside was selling roses.  
  
"Oh get off it. What happened? How was Christmas with loverboy?"  
  
"Don't call him that." Emma spat.  
  
Sophie raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Sophie shrugged. She lifted her coffee to her lips and sipped at the liquid. Licking residual foam off her lips she spoke. "What happened with Rupert?" A pause and then, "Better?". Emma shrugged in return. She occupied her time fixing her necklace and her scarf. The olive green material allowed her silver necklace to sparkle underneath the light as a dusting of snow began to fall outside. The man selling the roses had found refuge under an awning for a tattoo parlor. The juxtaposition made Emma want to laugh as she studied the flowers more intently. "Em, he loves you."  
  
"And I love him." She gulped. "I told him how I felt, it was nice…" Her voice trailed off.   
  
Sophie shook her head. "What did he say? Did you two make passionate love? He's awesome in bed, isn't he?" Emma kicked her under the table, something she didn't quite remembering telling her foot to do. Her brain was no longer hers when it came to Rupert. Most of her body was fleeting too. Everyday Emma came closer to surrendering completely.   
  
"Soph, stop." Sophie shrugged, loving every moment of this. She had been waiting almost five years for this time to come, when Emma wasn't wasting her time on boys she clearly didn't care for, to overshadow the fact that she was completely and utterly in love with the only boy that had truly cared for her. "Okay, so you didn't fuck. Is he at least a good kisser?"   
  
"Soph, I'm bloody serious! We're done talking about this! What Rupert and I do is none of your business!"   
  
The statement caught the blonde off-guard. If Emma was open about anything in her life, it was the boys she dated. Sophie had to guess that the wall that Emma was building was more of a statement to the world, then a sign of malice. Emma and Rupert would never date. They had bypassed that road years ago and were now lingering between loving each other and being in love. "I'm sorry. Let me just say that you can't wait forever, Ems."  
  
"Like you know anything about waiting…" Her words hurt but not enough to keep Sophie from finishing. People could say what they wanted about the model and her loose ways, but she was more perceptive than she was ever given credit for. Sophie liked to think that she knew what Emma wanted more than Emma did. Of course that wasn't true, for Emma was the most stubbornly headstrong person she knew, but Sophie did have a way of admitting things Emma only wanted to keep buried.   
  
"I'm just saying that you should fuck him before someone else gets the chance."  
  
"Soph, stop, I'm bloody serious."  
  
"I'd fuck him." She stated it casually, as if she didn't know how much her words would sting her best friend. Of course she knew. She knew all too well how much Emma's mouth tasted of blood at the thought of anyone other than her being with Rupert.   
  
"Fuck you, Soph!" A stranger was imaginable, but picturing Rupert and Sophie together made her want to throw up. Quickly, she erased the images from her mind, telling herself that he was hers. For a moment her mind traveled back to the other day in her flat when she had told him that very thing. Had he remembered? Dear god, she hoped so.  
  
"You know what Ems? Say what you want, to me or anyone else but that boy is not going to wait around forever. He loves you. He's fucking in love with you and you take advantage of that. Do you know what I'd give to have a boy look at me the way he looks at you? Bloody hell, you're such a fucking tease! And I'm so god damn scared for you. He's been waiting five fucking years for you to be honest with yourself and now you have been and you guys still aren't together! I'm just waiting for the day for him to smarten up and see that you're never going to realize how great you two would be together!" Sophie was standing now, grabbing for her scarf and jacket from their place on the hooks above the booth. "You would be too, you get that right? You two would be bloody brilliant together…" She threw a bill down on the table, walking away before Emma could even mutter the slightest of words. Emma was struggling to even breathe at this point as all the thoughts she was having lately were suddenly dialogue spoken aloud. Hearing them frightened her, and all because as they hit the air she was able to realize how honest they were, and how more unsettling they seemed to be the longer Sophie let them hang there.   
  
Emma watched her best friend cross the street and head back to where her car was parked. "Fuck!," Emma thought. Not only was she alone in a coffee shop on the northside, but she was also stranded in a city that was not her own. The London she thought she knew had grown cold outside. The man selling roses had walked to find another venue, and now the flea market was wrapping up as the day began to age. The waitress came back two more times. On her second attempt, Emma gave in, ordering a green tea. Her eyes remained affixed on the wet streets outside.   
  
Giving in, Emma grabbed her phone out of her oversized bag, and began to dial. His voice came in on the other line, just as she needed it to. It was husky and hoarse, as if he had missed out on hours of sleep the night before when they both fell asleep while talking on the phone. No matter how pleasing the the timbre in his voice was, she cursed herself for letting it get that bad. "Rupes?" She choked back a sob. Sophie was right; Emma didn't even need to ask to know that Rupert would be there in twenty minutes, ready to take her home. He would do anything for her, a fact that comforted her until she was sick with guilt. She would do anything for him too, it just seemed as if she was always the one that needed to be saved, and never the other way around.   
  
He did show up about a half an hour later, bundled up in his favorite black scarf, pulled over his grey peacoat. His nose was red, causing Emma to reach out and rub it with the ball of her thumb. The action made Rupert smile before he was really able to witness her state. "Do you wanna talk about it?" She shook her head. "Are you ready to go?"   
  
"Mhm." Emma swigged at the last of her green tea. She set down several more bills on the table, making sure to leave the waitress a generous tip. On their way out, the waitress smiled at the couple, because they were seemingly in love, but also because she could have sworn she had seen them both somewhere before.   
  
Inside Rupert's car, Emma took off her gloves and rubbed her hands together. Rupert made quick work of turning up the heat as he fixed the vents so that they pointed on Emma. Emma quickly made sure both were receiving equal heat as Rupert carefully pulled away from the curb and sped off.  
  
"Thanks for doing this Rupes."   
  
He smiled at her, letting off the brake to go through a light that was now green. "Of course, Ems."   
  
"No, really. You know how much I appreciate everything you do for me, right? I really mean that…"   
  
Rupert reached over and grabbed at her hands in her lap. "Ems, you don't need to thank me. I know you'd do the same thing for me. No questions asked."  
  
"You do though right? Anything you need, I'd be there in a heartbeat. I'd drop everything and make sure you were okay…"  
  
"Ems…" He cut her off. As she spoke he was formulating possible scenarios in his head for what happened before he arrived at the cafe. His mind was only able to come up with a thin blonde and her unnerving need to pick and prod to the point of naked complacency. Sophie always had an immeasurable talent for making other people be as liberal with their feelings as she always was. The first time Rupert met her, he was slightly put off, unsure of what to make of this spitfire Emma called a friend. But it was the latter fact that made him tolerate her and even consider her a friend when it was necessary. "You okay?"  
  
Emma nodded. A soundlessness settled into the car. The warm air pouring through the vents acted as a soundtrack to their car ride, bringing them out of London and to the outskirts of Oxford. Emma regretted allowing the silence to creep in, just as they pulled up to her flat. She was about to get out of the car, but then stopped herself. "Hey Rupes, can I ask you something?" She didn't wait for his response, she just asked, hoping for an answer similar to the one she had planned for herself back at the cafe. "You'd never go for Sophie, right?"  
  


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x. Elle 


	20. Baby Blue Eyes

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
A/N: This isn't a continuation of the previous chapter so we won't hear Rupert's answer to Emma's question as some of you hinted toward. Obviously me excluding it means it's irrelevant. No worries! Also, I suppose this chapter is fitting considering my small rant. Off to be a frustrated powerless fangirl...  
  
Song: _Baby Blue Eyes_ -A Rocket to the Moon**   
  


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Emma felt pretty, something she hadn't felt comfortable enough to say for quite some time. The thought was fleeting as Rupert entered her flat, kicking off snow onto her welcome mat while patting at his damp hair. Little snowflakes remained at his hair line. Rupert idly pulled back to tops of his mittens to reveal his fingertips, cold and damp beneath the rough wool material. He was, no doubt, creating little brown pools of wetness in the grooves of the tiled floor. Emma didn't seem to mind. She took him in, his bright hair looking almost blonde against the jacket he wore undoubtedly for her. It modestly poked out from beneath his grey peacoat. His favorite red scarf was around his neck and she itched to fix the loop he must have messily thrown together. Her mind gave up as her eyes wandered, further down Rupert's body, past his tailored black jeans and to his ratty pair of converse. She hated the look, usually. She knew that much. But on Rupert it seemed to work. Maybe the fact wasn't that she hated it, but rather, she hated when boys who weren't Rupert tried to pull it off. Were there things she did that made him resent other girls for even trying?  
  
As he walked further in, he saw Emma, her body bent over the vanity she kept in her foyer. It was an antique piece where the mirror spun idly off the back of the dresser. It spun if you wanted it to, or it remained where it was, tightened by years of use. She was reapplying lipstick, a subtle peach color, to the outer corner of her lips. She didn't need any more makeup. There was nothing to cover up, or conceal. Emma looked flawless.  
  
Rupert's breath hitched in his throat as he searched for the words to describe her. She turned around, leaning on the stained wood for support. She had the look she always had on when she was dolled up. It was a mix of being overwhelmed and unsure. Nobody would ever know because she hid it rather well, but getting this dressed up with the shoes, the hair, and makeup, made Emma rather self-conscious. She reverted to this version of herself and always needed reassurance from a publicist or a manager to keep going.  
  
This, however, was the first time Rupert would ever give her that push. "You look stunning, Ems. Wow…" His voice trailed off as he studied her legs. When Rupert reached an age where he began to notice Emma as more than just a cast-mate and friend, her legs were always the first thing he would stare at. At the premiere for "Goblet of Fire", the two rode in the limo together, with Dan and their publicists. Emma nervously played with the hem of her gown, even going as far as to ask Rupert if the pale cream color washed her out. Her knees knocked with his own as Rupert passed the time by telling Emma about how his mother scolded him for wearing Jeans to a premiere. Emma told him how handsome he looked at the end of the story. Rupert only brushed the comment off, never fully believing her words. A silence settled into the limo again. His eyes bored of the street outside and instead, stared down. His jean covered legs contrasted sharply with hers. The color of her dress was light, he thought, but it only made her legs seem more olive in complexion. "You look wonderful, Em," he remembered telling her. She simply smiled and fixed her hair, just as she was doing now.  
  
The party was at Bonnie's home, the one she had just purchased with Jamie. It was this beautiful estate right outside of London. Emma immediately pictured children running around on the grass as Bonnie read a book or four on the steps nearest the back patio. There was a greenhouse off the right wing of the house, and a small pond out back. The driveway was similar to Rupert's, circular and constant; it began exactly where it would eventually end. It was characteristically Bonnie, right down to the way every room had its own color and scent.  
  
The house was full of family and friends of both Bonnie and Jamie. A majority of the group was Potter cast and crew, people everyone grouped in the family category. It seemed that Emma and Rupert separated at the door, something they only barely acknowledged doing. Rupert remembered taking off Emma's jacket and hanging both coats up, then she was gone, as was he, catching up with friends he hadn't seen in quite some time. They discussed holiday, the snow storm they had a week back, and getting back to work. Rupert spoke of such a topic fondly, excited to film some of the most emotional scenes his character was ever given. Somewhere on the other side of the room, Emma felt bitter and numb about the entire thing. There was nothing she wanted more than to get back to work, but a part of her knew that everyday she showed up for work, she was forcing herself to let a little bit of it all slip away.  
  
Rupert waved at people he rarely saw on set. It was helpful to be shy, something he sometimes played up. Often people felt more comfortable smiling his way and waiting for him to make the first move. This made Rupert's social life incredibly undemanding. He was allowed to be who he wanted to be, without the pretenses. His mind wandered to Emma, and what she must have been talking about. He was sure he hadn't seen her yet because she was the opposite. She started conversation with everyone and never stopped smiling. She only said goodbye when it was absolutely appropriate and she often found herself laughing at jokes she didn't think were funny. Rupert thought it was pathetic and usually took time to let her know. By then, she was normally too exhausted to listen to her best friend's criticism.  
  
As Rupert reached Tom, the two immediately began to banter, back and forth, over Rupert's jacket mainly. He loved it, and loved the way it fit him. Tom had nothing against the blazer, it was just a comment to make. "Where's Jade?"  
  
"Family party. She's driving over when she's done. Her father started talking about guns and the state of hospitals in London and I had to get out of there." Tom handed Rupert a beer from the fridge. Most guests were grabbing drinks from tin tubs decorated with tinsel and filled to the brim with melting ice and alcohol. Tom avoided that situation altogether, knowing exceptionally well that Bonnie kept the better booze in the fridge in the garage.  
  
Rupert popped the cap off, and swigged at the cold beverage. "Smooth."  
  
"I saw you and Emma before. What's up with that?"  
  
"I don't know. She didn't want to come alone. You know she's a lousy driver…"  
  
"So you drove an hour across town to pick her up and backtrack here?"  
  
Rupert nodded, taking another sip of his beer. "Yeah, actually…" It wasn't a lie. Anyone that knew Emma, knew how ruddy her driving was. While it was only Rupert and Dan who knew it took her four times to pass her road test, everyone else made a running joke of her constant car orders to and from set.  
  
"Okay, Rupe."  
  
"I'm serious!" Several family members stared at the boys as they entered the house from the garage. Tom and Rupert meekly nodded in their direction. Tom loved the attention, whilst Rupert did his best to avoid its existence altogether.  
  
"I heard about Scotland." Tom finally said, staring at Emma as he did so. He smiled from behind his beer bottle. Not once did his eyes land on Rupert's. He didn't need to see his best friend to know that he was about to walk them both right into a lie. "What's with that?"  
  
"Nothing happened, I swear. The photogs were bloody mad and we just shuffled into the nearest shop. And she was teasing me the whole bloody time and then the night before she was in the tub, and-" He stopped himself, pressing his wrist to his forehead to dab at the beads of sweat beginning to form there. "Oh god."  
  
Tom looked to Rupert, and then to Emma. "Dan told me nothing."  
  
"What?" Rupert said, clearly shocked.  
  
"Nothing. He told me nothing. And Emma sure as hell didn't open her mouth. I just knew something happened and you weren't going to tell me so...hey, it worked, right?"  
  
"Tom, you fucking git!"  
  
"Rupe, it's Emma. I know you too. I've seen this shitshow go on for the past five years. I would have figured it out eventually…"  
  
"You're mental."

  
"Maybe. But I have a girlfriend, and she makes me happy as fuck. What do you have Rupe?" He paused. His words weren't meant to hurt, but they sometimes did. Rupert often wondered if Tom knew that, if he'd ever sensor himself a bit more. He was his best friend, and that hadn't changed since both boys were just that, boys. It wasn't ever going to change either.  
  
Jade walked in the front door, a lacy purple number hugging where her hips should have been. She was thin and petite and her hair was pulled back in a chaste updo. Tom's face lit up, waving at his girlfriend to get her attention. She nodded his way, making quick work of pushing through people to reach the boys.  
  
"Listen, you kiss her at midnight, okay? You still owe me from two years ago. That was a disaster…" Tom said with a lighthearted chuckle. He was right, it was. The same dare existed in a similar form two years ago. Rupert had a boyish courage about him then, and that made the dare seem painless. In the end, it became the opposite, and it hurt more than it ever helped. It lost its challenge and overall existence when Emma brought Jay to Tom's New Years Eve party. It was the second time Rupert had seen him, and it wouldn't have been the last. It took almost a year for Emma to get rid of Jay, and now, two years later, Rupert still craved that New Years kiss. He wanted to spit at the thought, knowing that a kiss they shared now would be nothing close to what he had planned for that night. Too many words had been spoken, pushing years of tension back into hiding. The truth did nothing but bind the two to emotions and thoughts they weren't even aware they held.  
  
"Alright, yeah…" Rupert breathed out, reverting to his bottle of liquid courage. He sauntered away from Jade and Tom. The couple was already too engrossed with one another that they had yet to notice the lack of his presence.  
  
Emma was in the kitchen helping Bonnie pull h'ordeuvres from the oven. The red over mitts she wore on her hands made Rupert laugh. As she noticed him standing there against the door jam staring at her, she smiled dimly, pushing her bangs behind her ear. She stared down at the quiche, now taking her bare hands and using them to place the pastries on a platter Bonnie had pulled from the cabinet. All the while, Rupert watched her. It was rare he got to see her hands, polished and busy. They were rarely her hands when he was around. They become phantom limbs, executing a high-strung Hermione, or the hands of the girl from the mirror, pulling at the curly hairs at the nape of his neck.  
  
"Rupert, darling!" Bonnie squealed, pulling off her over mitts before pulling him in for a hug. "You look smashing!" Rupert smiled. The two looked more like siblings offscreen, with their crooked smiles and awkward table manners. It was something they prided themselves on, the closeness they had even when the cameras weren't rolling. It gave Rupert a sense of security, like he was doing something right even when everything else seemed to be going wrong.  
  
"You look so good, Bon!" Pulling away from the hug, he smiled. "The house looks amazing!"  
  
"Really? I think Jamie hates it…"  
  
Rupert shrugged. "It's you. He can't hate it."  
  
"Thanks bro." Bonnie lightly tapped Rupert's shoulder, pushing him closer to Emma. All the puff pastries were out on their respective platters by now. Rupert was still smiling at Emma, and she was still doing her best to avoid his glance. It was a game they played often, but like Wizard Chess, he was better at it than she was. And like wizard chess, she would always swear that she was winning.  
  
By eleven, alcohol had pushed everyone into the living room. Empty liquor bottles only agreed with everyone as they remained around the cooler in a pile that only made sense to the half-gone people that placed them there. Plates remained scattered on the countertops, the dining room table, and in an unstable pile in the sink. They threatened to spill over, splashing stale soapy water onto the rug below. Bonnie's heels were discarded there earlier, when a bottle of ale had pushed Jamie on top of her, his memory forcing him to forget that they were not alone. Emma just stared at the shoes, and the incomplete state of the house. Rupert stood in front of her, and she wondered if he too tasted intoxicating. She had only a glass of wine so far, and her head was already dizzy with thoughts and a lack of sleep. She thought of the other day, when she had invited Rupert into her apartment after he picked her up from the cafe. She kissed him seven times that night. They napped together too, knocking limbs and sharing yawns as their bodies sunk further into Emma's bed. It didn't bother her, and actually, she'd give anything to go from this stuffy house with its freshly painted walls, back to the confines of her flat, her hand drawing circles on her best friend's chest as he dozed off.  
  
It wasn't where she wanted it, or how she had ever imagined them. Being close with Rupert was never an issue. She had been paid to be close to him for the past ten years of her life. It was the fact that close to him meant so many different things that the word close ever did with any other boy. It was all relative, she supposed, and she wondered if he felt it too. It took her weeks to admit that she was ready to be close with Jay. After she kissed George, just as the regret settled in, leaving a sour taste in her mouth, she deemed the moment "close".  
  
With Rupert, close was redefined. Just as her body felt lighter when he hugged her as it snowed, or her fingers seemed to want to fall off her hands as he touched her back, picking her up, this was close. It was beautifully sexual, like the way he stared at her the morning after they woke up together, only realizing that they had spent the night together when the sun had risen. He looked to her, blinked, then smiled, turning his head over on the pillow. Emma told herself that he was taking pictures to save for when this was all over. Rupert didn't even want to think that far.  
  
Now, on the same countertops that were littered with crumpled napkins and champagne glasses marked with lipstick, Emma sat. Her feet dangled, the way they used to as she sat on the large benches in the Great Hall from set. She felt like that same girl, her hair frizzing from the heat. Her cheeks were the same freckled ones Rupert fell in love with. For awhile, the freckles seemed to disappear underneath a thin layer of pressed powder. It was one of the main reasons he loved her best in mascara and sweats.  
  
Emma's arms acted as wooden stilts, running parallel to her body. Her palms were pressed flat on the marble, whitening her knuckles. Her fingers joined her toes, dangling as gravity pulled her closer to Rupert. He didn't seem to mind. As she did it the last time, he nipped at her nose with his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the speckled area of skin. It made her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks. She kept her eyes shut tightly, as he made her laugh about something else that wouldn't have mattered at any other time.  
  
"Do you wanna get out of here?"  
  
"Ems, it's not even midnight you lightweight!"  
  
Her eyes remained closed. She swatted at his shoulder, gently, as the weakness of her body really settled in. "Shush!" She was thankful he was standing in front of her. His body now between Emma's legs, allowed his hands to reach back behind her and place his arms over hers with their upper limbs creating somewhat of an imperfect knot.  
  
"It's not even midnight. Let's watch the ball drop and then we can head home?"  
  
"Your place or mine?" She teased, secretly wanting him to take her serious. She knew it was an unfair thing to ask of him, just as most of what she said was unfair to him in some way. Still, it didn't keep the words from falling from her mouth as she meant every last syllable.  
  
"Ems, stop." Rupert spoke softly, but his voice pleaded with her. He averted his eyes, or rather, they bounced off of hers.  
  
She pulled him back into her, feeling as if he had gone much further than he had. It was only his orbs that moved, his body remained stationary in front of her. The sides of his hands even graced her fingertips. It made her shiver. Emma settled further into him, knowing that at this point she was already his. Stopping, she had to question when she wasn't his. She had to have been twelve or thirteen, naive and immature as well.  
  
"Rupes…" She wanted to cry. Maybe it would have been better if they never grew up. Things were easier when they didn't understand what love truly was, and only said the word to their parents out of habit. He said nothing. He went in again, nibbling at her cheek, causing Emma to squeal out of excitement; it actually felt rather good. He smelled like ale, but Emma didn't mind. She wanted his taste engrained into her cheek, so much so that she wondered why he didn't let his teeth sink in a little bit deeper.  
  
"Guys!" A cry from the room echoed into the kitchen, making the entire house sound as if a pin was just dropped on a record. The estate was still rowdy, and brighter too, Emma thought. These were things her mind didn't pick up on with Rupert breathing so close. She had other things to take notice of, like how his tie was loosening and how she really loved the slacks he was wearing. Ten! Nine!  
  
Emma went to jump down, but Rupert stopped her. "Do you really want to go in there?" Unsure, she looked at him. She loved him for giving her the option to choose, but just by asking, he had already answered for her. She nodded, turning Rupert around as the two faced the television. Emma snaked an arm around Rupert's chest. He leaned into her, feeling her knees now dig into his back. The feeling made him smile, in a way he couldn't understand.  
  
Eight! Seven! Rupert settled into her, too. He relaxed as if they were still friends, letting his chin sit on the bridge of her arm. Underneath, she could feel the vibrations of his heart thumping rapidly.  
  
Six! Five! They watched as their friends and coworkers embraced, getting ready for the long hand of Big ben to creep toward the twelve. It was something everyone in the room had most likely watched since they were old enough to train themselves to stay awake at such an hour. Rupert and Emma didn't have to see the television screen to know what was occurring.  
  
Four! Three! Everyone grew close while Rupert and Emma just stayed the same. A wave of exhaustion hit them both. Two! One! Then nothing. A New Year, and in two days they'd be back on set filming.  
  
"Happy New Years, Rupes…" Emma whispered. She could feel Rupert smile as she let her lips float away from his ear. Years meant a lot to the two, and this was just another one to live through. For Rupert, years meant privileges and breathtaking moments. For Emma, years were a chance to backtrack on all the wasted time. She hated herself right now. This was all her fault, and even with Rupert this close, by their own definition, she hated the years and what they had done to her.  
  


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x. Elle


	21. Parachute

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too. I also don't own this image ([http://gallery.ewva.net/albums/Hermione/....al_09021127.jpg](http://gallery.ewva.net/albums/Hermione/DH/OnTheSet/London-Set-2/normal_09021127.jpg)) which is referenced if you know to look for it. Basically this FF is a look inside the missing moments I imagine happening for these two when I see them interact outside of the movies.   
  
Oh, and my tumblr can be found HERE: <http://elleisforlovee.tumblr.com> if anyone is interested. Follow me and message me telling me who you are and I'll follow back!   
  
Song: _Parachute_ \- Ingrid Michaelson**  
  


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It was odd to them, really, that people were beginning to talk. Emma and Rupert were receiving labels that they were even unaware they deserved. The one Emma detested the most, she heard as she passed in front of a group of extras. It made her gasp, and then sink down into herself. She grabbed a water bottle from Annie, her assistant, who noticed her change in demeanor. "You okay Emma?" She just nodded, sipping at the bottle. Her hair was curled slightly, hanging at her shoulders as she walked. The red dress she wore clung tightly to her body and she hated how soft the material was and how it gave her no shape. The color wasn't forgiving either, making her look pale and plain. The night was cool, to be expected of a side street in London at two in the morning. It was also January, and everyone on set seemed to be clinging onto the year before, trying to forget that this year would be their last.  
  
She walked back over to Rupert and Dan who were talking to assistants and members of the crew. Rupert stared at her from his position behind a monitor looking over their last few takes. His arms were crossed over his chest and he stood with his hip jutted out just slightly. It made Emma want him, something she had only just admitted to herself on set yesterday. "Dan!" She called, not realizing her friend was standing to her right.   
  
He looked at her, eyes wide and mouth curious. "Emma, blimey!"  
  
"Oh, sorry" She touched her forehead, miming a loss of reality. "I didn't know where you went…"  
  
"You okay, Em?" She nodded. He tried his best to put it all together. Dan was perceptive, but not when it came to Emma. She was the only person that didn't ask everything of him, and usually got it anyway. She was also the only girl he'd ever truly let in. She saw him in his lowest place and accepted him all the same. He wanted to do the same for her, if only she'd let him in. Of course she let Rupert in, but not the way he wanted either. It was a game of give and take, with everyone giving, leaving no one left to take. Nobody really wanted to take though, they were perfectly happy giving everything they had to each other, if only for a couple more months.   
  
Rupert was approaching, his tired feet bringing him near to where Emma stood. She pulled her fleece blanket even closer to her skin, trying to fight off the cold. It did nothing to protect her legs from the wind, as little goosebumps appeared underneath her stockings.   
  
"You cold?" Rupert was leaning into her now. She mustn't have noticed, as her eyes were closed, resting for a minute before they were thrown back into it again. Her eyelashes fluttered, needing him to give her so much more. But of course he couldn't and Emma was reminded this as she heard mumbles from the extras, and that same girls voice whispering what she believed them to be. "Here…" His arms were on her shoulders, but she quickly moved. She was now facing Dan and Rupert, the two boys dumbfounded as they stared back at her.   
  
"People are staring. I'll never get used to them staring...and talking…" she added.   
  
Rupert shared a look with Dan. "Ems, you're freezing, maybe we can talk to David and-"  
  
"Rupert, I'm fine, love, please! I'm just tired…" That was Emma's excuse for everything. Universally, it meant that she really didn't want to talk about anything anymore. This was when she began repairing the mortar of the wall she was only just beginning to tear down. What made it difficult to see lately was that Rupert knew he was part of that destruction, and as the glue dried, he hated himself for doing nothing to stop it.   
  
Emma felt herself walking backward while her body remained stationary. She felt everything from the holiday, particularly how she hated herself for ever creating this distance between her and her best friend. He was her world, and yet she wanted him to be more. He was right though, she was building walls. No words were spoken, but she knew that was what he was thinking. Rupert always seemed to be thinking of her and her issues. For most guys it was what sent them running, but for him, it was what kept him holding on for so long.  
  
David spoke to them, all three actors staring ahead listening intently. Actors were sent walking first, just here and there. Then it was their turn. Somehow it was these scenes that were the most difficult. Walking in a straight line, the trio faking confusion and petrification, was more difficult than the scenes where they had lines and could play off each other. Dan began to laugh, with Rupert only bursting out seconds later.   
  
"Dan! Rupert! Red card!" The boys nodded, getting it all out. Emma just slumped back into herself, wishing she had not discarded her blanket so quickly. "And...action!"  
  
They began again, walking from the same spot they started in not too long ago. Dan lost it again, immediately covering his actions with a few loud apologies. It was late, or by some standards, quite early. Nobody had slept yet and the work of two days of filming was already beginning to settle in and dig at the relaxation received during their time off. "Take 5, action!"  
  
It worked this time, and then the scene was complete and everyone was waiting around as lights and sound equipment were moved from one side of the street to the other. Emma was freezing again, though she wasn't quite sure it ever stopped. Her skin shook, even as she graciously took the blanket Rupert handed her way. She hugged the material tightly to her body, and then gave in. From behind, she felt his arms wrap around her upper body. She nestled her head into his neck, giving him room to settle into her. They stayed like that for a few lingering moments, as crew members jolted past them, and they were ushered across the street. That scene too was done before they knew it. It ended just as it started, with Emma holding both Daniel and Rupert's hands as the three stepped back, playing shock at the imaginary bus that sped by.  
  
One take scenes were reassuring. "Okay everyone, that's a wrap. See you all tomorrow! Big round of applause for our extras." The trio clapped, quickly walking toward a van that was waiting to take them back to where their trailers were, a few blocked off streets down. All the while, Emma kept a tight grip on Rupert's hand as the two meandered through the blockades that separated them and the extras. She received glances, and so did he. She didn't mind, and in a way, it made her smile. She finally had this boy in her grasp and it made her wonder if this was how he felt, taking her out for tea every so often, with London boys always staring.   
  
It was a lovely feeling to know that the person you want, wants you but it's also nice to know that you're not the only one that wants them. It was territorial and childish, Emma told herself. She wanted to feel completely different about the situation, but as he helped her into the towncar, all she could think about was the callous skin of his thumb caressing her skin. He held her hand as if he was holding her heart and somehow this meant more.   
  


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x. Elle   
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	22. Honestly

 

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
A/N: Things are about to pick up. Maybe not in this chapter or the next, but soon. You've been warned :]  
  
Song: _Honestly_ \- Cartel**   
  


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A month had passed since that night in London where Emma felt her toes and heart grow cold. Already she was beginning to soften up a bit, and no matter how exhausted she was, she was beginning to care what she looked like when she showed up to set a little before six every morning. This was after she had been up for two hours already, going to the gym and then coming home to change and prep for a long day at the studio.   
  
As per usual, her driver dropped her off, and she left him with a quick "thank you" before hurriedly running inside with her assistant Annie. Emma almost lost her Chanel flat as she ran down the hall toward her dressing room. She knew what was awaiting her, and she was excited to see it, him with his ruffled hair and tired eyes, waiting for her on the couch with coffee. She practically jumped on him, the way she had wanted to since they last departed, him dropping her off at her flat last night after filming ended. Her neighbors were out though, staring and listening to everything the two said. She left him with only a chaste kiss on the cheek. It stung his skin as the cold air of the night began to wipe it away. He only felt the weight of it settle back in as he drove home, not once allowing his mind to abandon her.  
  
Now, Emma stood on her tiptoes after discarding her shoes by the door. Voices and heavy footsteps could be heard outside, but she didn't care. She leaned into him, her body pressed flat against his as she spoke so very closely to his mouth. She loved to tease, even if it was somewhat painful for her in the end. Rupert nipped at her lips quickly, pulling away only when Annie entered. "Em, you have-Oh…" she began. Emma and Rupert stared, not stepping apart or trying to explain themselves. There was a certain understanding on set lately for people who thought they had always know what was going on, while still being completely blind to the love Rupert and Emma shared. They knew something had changed, and they acknowledged it, most of the crew members, even the fathers and grandfathers of the set, smiling as the two walked by. They felt responsible for them in a way, remembering them in their miniature robes and small caps, play-fighting and corpsing every other take as they figured out the logistics of a movie set. Now, it was Rupert and Emma who believed they had it all figured out, from the call times to the standing marks. They knew how long it took the crew to set up for a new scene and they resorted back into themselves during this time, no longer keeping character. Everyone may have thought they knew but they'd never truly understand what happened in Scotland or at Rupert's house for the holidays to change it all. One day they were friends, and the next they were more, something Rupert and Emma could have sworn happened years before now. It was the more that kept everyone hanging on, waiting for an announcement of a relationship or maybe something better. For those who truly knew the two friends, they knew it'd never come. David and Daniel and Jamie all knew how hard they both had worked to make any of this fall together. That announcement would never come, at least not anytime soon.   
  
As Annie left the dressing room, the scene in front of her resumed. As Emma kissed Rupert, she thought of what Annie could have needed, most likely a reminder of hair and wardrobe. She had an hour before all of that, and she wanted to stay here like this, kissing Rupert into oblivion. She already felt his lips making her knees weak as her brain grew fuzzy. This was happening lately, a feeling of intoxication at varying levels depending on how close they were. It was she who tried to push that, further and further, more and more skin upon his. She did this only because she knew it was what he wanted, but never had the courage to do. So she did it for him, licking at his lower lip before kissing him full on the mouth again.   
  
They pulled away moments later, descending to their roles as best friends, pretending eloquently as if they weren't just engrossed so deeply in the other. "Here." Rupert handed her the coffee he had gotten her. It was extra hot, scalding she imagined, beneath the paper cup. It warmed her hands as she grabbed for him, stopping him from sitting on the couch.   
  
"Let's go get breakfast in catering like old times…"  
  
Rupert arched an eyebrow. "You didn't get me a donut? I was really looking forward to it…"  
  
Emma slumped down into herself. She was pouting a little bit, feeling slightly defeated by this beautiful boy before her. "Please? I'm sure they have muffins in catering…" She pushed out her bottom lip, causing Rupert to wince at the sight. It only made Emma laugh. She begged some more. He gave in, of course, wrapping his left arm around her waist. He pulled her into him, as she wrapped her free arm around his neck. He played with her fingers as the two walked down the hall, away from the dressing rooms and toward the cafeteria. It was on the other side of the lot, a place the two rarely visited. After the second movie, it became more odd to enter the room where extras and crew members quickly ate before running back to set to film. The trio would be lying if they said they didn't feel judged as all eyes looked at them when they entered the room. Rupert remembered going to get a water once, something he always hated sending an assistant to do. Even as his unsteady hand grabbed down into the cooler to grab the beverage, he was taken aback by the amount of eyes on him and the weight they all carried. Their glares pushed him out of the room that day, and he didn't remember when he had returned since.  
  
Standing at the doorway, the two walked in, ignoring all of this. People stared, but they didn't notice. They just shuffled toward the food line, grabbing warm plates from the pile, slowly looking at the selections as they both gave in and filled the plate with food. By the end Emma's plate was just as full as Rupert's. He marveled at this fact, loving that this was one thing she didn't care if people judged her for. She was petite, and most of the time he heard her complain about how her curves were never enough. Rupert was always left thinking about how she was perfect but it was never his hands to roam over her hips and confirm that for her. As Rupert was getting them both orange juice from the large pitchers at the end of the table, Emma sat down, pulling at her own chair before scooting in closely toward the cloth-lined table. She unfolded her silverware from its confines within the napkin, then placed the soft white linen on her lap.   
  
Rupert was back now, slightly mimicking Emma's actions. His silverware was placed near his plate, although not as neatly as Emma's seemed to be. His napkin was on his lap now, but in a ball, not folded at the corners in a neat triangle with the folds facing down. That was something Emma was taught and chose to follow. Rupert knew the same, and chose to ignore it.  
  
He was also ignoring the way a few of the extras stared at Emma, her long legs peeking out of a pair of navy linen shorts. They bunched at her thighs, leaving her tanned gams to stretch out beneath the table, sitting perfectly in her white Chanel flats. She used her toes to rub at Rupert's leg through his jeans. She clearly didn't care as much as he did, watching all of these men stare her up and down. They wanted her, just as he did. He wasn't intimidated; he knew she was his. A part of him believed this would always be the case, just as he believed she was his for the past four years or so, when their friendship remained in limbo, high above the things they desperately needed to talk about.   
  
Rupert ignored the boys that didn't seem to quit. Him and Emma had other things on their mind, mostly the lines their minds were already forgetting as they thought about the kiss that was soon to be. The two had shared forty-eight kisses since the day after Christmas. A few remained uncounted for, back in Rupert's bedroom or Emma's dressing room. This particular kiss would be number forty-nine and this one would be different. It would be the first kiss they experienced together but not as themselves. The emotion was different and yet it reminded Emma of a lace comforter scratching at her back as Rupert inched her sweater up her back. Things got closer lately but never too close. It was a comfort game of pushing buttons and receiving results. Emma pushed more than Rupert ever did. She knew he wanted her just as much as she wanted him, now she wanted him to show it.   
  
Close, seemed to redefine itself as Emma thought of these men and women that watched her grow up, now watch her kiss this boy she was in love with. Hermione loved him too, or at least the version of him that Rupert played into. This wasn't acting, but a version of themselves put on a screen, filmed for scrutiny. It was supposed to be magical, and epic, but Emma was rejecting even the slightest thought of it in her mind. Rupert shared similar thoughts, not wanting to let his mind dwell on its existence. Normally they couldn't wait to kiss, if only the moment was right. It always was, but this was wrong. Something like this shouldn't be shared with the world. There was a reason Hermione and Ron had gone into the Room of Requirements alone, Emma thought.   
  
"This is going to be awkward." She spoke first, carefully swallowing at her eggs before sipping at the drink he had gotten her. The straw rested in her moment for a second before she pulled away, waiting for his response. She studied him, the way she always loved to. She was good at it, and if he was being honest, he didn't mind the way her eyes settled on his, waiting for figure him out.   
  
"You think?"   
  
"You don't?" She bit back quickly.   
  
"No, well, of course I do. I don't know."  
  
"Oh right, nothing makes you uncomfortable…" Emma looked up, smirking to herself. She was scraping at the bottom of her yogurt container, but smiling all the same, thinking about how worked up he got when she teased him like this.   
  
"Plenty makes me uncomfortable. I'm uncomfortable with the fact that you think nothing makes me uncomfortable…"  
  
Emma chuckled. "Say uncomfortable again." He didn't. Instead he just smiled and bit at his fork.   
  
"Why are you nervous? I won't tell anyone you're a bad kisser..."  
  
"Rupes!" She threw a sugar packet his way. He ducked, the sweet little package dropping underneath the table. "That hurts! Am I really?"

  
Again he went silent. He shrugged, it was like blowing on fire in an attempt to get rid of the flame. Emma stuck her tongue out at Rupert and the two smiled together, at one another, if only for a moment.   
  
Emma was packing up her plate now, throwing the wrapper from her straw onto the discards of her pancakes. It rested near the pit from her peach. The now empty yogurt cup fell over on the plate, the weight of the plastic spoon inside causing it to do so. Her waffles were gone, and her coffee, still half-full remained in her hand as she stood up. "You ready?"  
  
He nodded, his palm resting naturally on her lower back as the two walked out of catering. People were still staring but the pair didn't notice. Emma's arm was flung around Rupert's neck again. He was taller than she was, something that gave her support in moving forward, but didn't hinder this position. She was laughing at something he had said about the banana he ate. It wasn't particularly hilarious but his delivery was perfect. As he watched her drop her head back, her hair falling in her face as her eyes closed and her mouth widened, Rupert thought the same thing about Emma, his best friend. She was perfect, had he told her that yet today?   
  


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x. Elle 


	23. All This Time

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
A/N: You know the deal: Mature Themes are lurking. Sorry this chapter is short but the next one is SOOOO worth it. I promise!  
  
Song: _All This Time_ \- One Republic**   
  


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The entire studio was running behind on time. Minutes passed as if they were hours, causing urge in some and worry in others. Rupert and Emma, patiently sat around, waiting for spike marks to be set and cues to be called. They moved exactly when they were supposed to, not once corpsing or losing their pace. Things worked impeccably, and David told them so several times. He was always proud of their performances, and he felt a sense of pride when he saw their evolving relationship as well. It was if he had directed that too.  
  
"Emma, Rupert we're going to take the scene you just did, with Rupert on his knees looking up at you, from the end. We want to go directly into the next scene…"  
  
"We're not rehearsing?" Emma quickly spoke. Her voice was nervous and her body jolted a bit, unsure of what was going on. This all was sprung on them so quickly. Rupert stared at her, using his gaze to calm her down when he arms could not.  
  
"Take it from the top, you two…" David went back to his chair behind the monitor. Emma and Rupert did just as he said. Rupert got down on one knee, leaning on the other with all his weight as he looked up at Emma. In his hand was the basilisk fang. Emma took it, but only after they recited their lines. The more they spoke, the more they both felt as if they were renouncing themselves and diving deeper into their characters.   
  
Emma became more self-concious. Her ego peaked a bit, but only out of fear. The way Rupert stared at her didn't help. His eyes were putting all of his trust into her, this girl he had been in love with for years now. It was a weight she wasn't sure she was ready to bear. For as confident as she always seemed, she wasn't ready for this responsibility. She had to kill this horcrux, and then they'd kiss. She was just following along with a script, she told herself. The thought didn't calm her down any. If anything, it only quickened the pace of her heart. She dug the fang into the cup, sending the heavy brass cup scattering off. She pictured the effects that would be placed in here, as Rupert grabbed her hand and the two began to run. They were running from nothing, this too was an effect. They ran all the same, their feet shuffling backward as their eyes remained fixed on a point they knew would eventually become a fury of water. Minutes later they felt it, a large bucket of lukewarm water crashing down on them. The look of stun as the water dissipated was not acting, but a reaction to how wet their bodies felt as they now shook in an effort toward recovery.   
  
They both waited, staring at each other, stealing side glances, just anticipating the sound of a click, as David would yell "cut!" and it all would end. None of those things happened.   
  
Emma looked at Rupert. He returned the favor, reaching his hand toward her waist. She inched closer to him, not once letting her eyes bounce off his lips. She watched them quiver out of lack of warmth, wanting so badly to cover them with her own. At the same time, she felt like retreating, her whole body tensing up before she let go and pounced on him. It happened so quickly, a quick intake of air from the two of them before their lips were locked. It was passionate, it was much-needed, but mostly, it was staged.   
  
Rupert's hands traveled around Emma's body, pulling her as close as possible. One rested on the back of her head, caressing at her ear, while the other settled on her lower back. She was on top of him now, using his own body to hold her up. He didn't mind, and in fact, it only let him delve deeper into her. He used her lips as a way of exploring. They felt it, the tension that disappeared into the air with tiny little flicks. It was like bubbles, popping as light and air pressure became too much.   
  
Emma's hands were where they always were, at the back of Rupert's head pulling his mouth closer down onto hers. He gave in, snaking his tongue past her lips, hoping secretly that this was something the camera wouldn't catch. They battled back and forth, their lips and hands moving here and there, as they silently argued with their characters over dominance. Rupert tilted his head slightly, covering where Emma was now letting her tongue duel with his. This was as deep as it had gotten in quite some time, and they both liked it but secretly hated that they'd soon be forced to pull away.   
  
They did separate eventually, and their lips grew dry as they did so. Their bodies still shook from the dampness that was already seeping into their skin. The loss of skin on skin contact created a breach in the sound barrier. The look of want disappeared from her face as they sized each other up. Their confused glances were noisy and it made her laugh, her mouth widening as she and Rupert smiled toward one another. Emma decided then that she was no longer playing a character. This was her, through and through, and she hoped he felt the same way. He only smiled, his wet hair making it impossible for him to see anything but her.   
  
Rupert and Emma wanted to laugh, but instead they said nothing as David ended the scene. Nothing else was said, and nobody moved. They all remained exactly as they were before, waiting for the moment to subside. It lingered far longer than anyone had anticipated, hoping that it would push Rupert and Emma back together. It didn't, but they hugged, walking over to the monitor hand in hand as this room full of adults grew jealous of what they just shared.   
  
It wasn't awkward, it was actually quite perfect. Emma agreed as she leaned into Rupert watching the kiss on screen. She imagined it differently for Ron and Hermione, maybe on a bed somewhere in the Burrow, or that night when he returned from leaving in the tent. Everyday when Rupert came to work, he felt the same thing, how the tension existed not only between his character and hers, but how that also began to weigh in on him and Emma. He felt his shoulders grow heavy as her heart beat quickened. It was all for him, he thought. This wasn't acting and it never would be.   
  


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x. Elle 


	24. One And Only

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
A/N: You know the deal: Mature Themes. We'll leave it at that :]  
  
Song: _One and Only_ \- Adele   
  
(Normally I don't care, but I do suggest you listen to this song. It's actually mentioned in the chapter and I think it fits these two perfectly, especially from Emma's POV...just sayin'!)**   
  


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Adele sang her way through the speaker's of Emma's record player. The vinyl had been purchased for her by Rupert for her last birthday. The gold-engraved edges made Emma smile, but not as much as the sentiment of the gift did. She loved Adele, and always asked Rupert, quizzically and with humor, why she wasn't allowed to have a voice like hers. As the two fell asleep while talking on the phone to each other before bed each night, Rupert always shook it off.   
  
The day was over and mostly everyone had gone home. Rupert was off showering, trying his best to waste time while he waited for Emma to be ready. This was a ritual of theirs, one that could only be performed when the studio was locked leaving them as the last two inside. When Rupert was done with his shower, he'd grab for his laptop bag, his half-finished cold coffee from his desk, and his phone off the arm of the sofa. Then he'd hit the light-switch and watch as the room swam in darkness. He'd take seven steps, usually, down to where Emma's dressing room was. He had locked it when he left her before, but by now it was always unlocked, waiting for him to enter and wait.  
  
First, he put his laptop case down. Then his coffee, and then his phone. His leather jacket and scarf were placed on the back on her rocking chair. Sometimes he flipped on the news, and sometimes he sat in silence, scanning the pictures around her mirror that his eyes had seen many times before. On this particular night, he picked up the magazine that sat on her coffee table. He thumbed through a few of the pages, almost ripping one in the process. He was hesitant for this reason, and repulsed by the models in the ads as well. Both notions forced him to put the booklet back where he found it as he settled back into waiting.   
  
Emma emerged moments later, her hair dry and full and her body barely clothed. She was just in her underwear, a pair of high waisted black lace panties. The hem of them barely kissed at the bottom of her matching bra. She looked flawless, causing Rupert to lick at his lips. He saw all of her through the knit navy sweater that swung open and landed at her hips as she walked. She was packing up her dressing room the way she usually did on a Friday night. More went home on these days than most others, and for that reason, she was frantic, feeling rushed.  
  
Rupert also noticed that something else was bothering her, and he begged to hear her words so he could remedy the situation. His friends often made fun of him for being so attentive when it came to Emma, but in all honesty, he adored how he was the only one she'd ever let all the way in.   
  
"Ems, you okay beautiful-?"  
  
She blushed, pushing a strand of her straight hair behind her ear. Her face was makeup-less. All of her freckles peaked out, making the bridge of her nose sparkle against her pale skin. "Do you ever miss Alfonso?"  
  
Rupert cocked his head. "I guess, why?"  
  
"I was just thinking, in the shower," she pointed toward the room behind her. "That maybe our kiss would have been different if Alfonso directed it. I mean-" She was running ragged now, her breathing coming out as if she was walking on stilts: high and jolted. "I'm just saying, I love David, I really do. Alfonso just really loved us. I mean, he loved Ron and Hermione. He got us...them…" She corrected herself once more. She was nervous, for reasons Rupert didn't see. He looked to her, and she softened, resting on the arm of the couch where he sat. "It was done properly, you think? The kiss, I mean...do you think everyone will be happy with it?"  
  
Rupert nodded. She had never been this close to him with barely anything on. He felt her thigh brush against his pinky. It made her shutter to see him flinch at her touch. Her heart fluttered at the sight of his eyes growing increasingly heavy lidded. "I'm happy with it. It was magical, really…" She sighed out, staring toward the door. The button on the brass was pushed in, signaling that the knob was glued to the doorjamb until her or Rupert changed their minds.  
  
Rupert said nothing, something that both thrilled and annoyed her. He had always been quiet, just never this quiet. Emma sat down on the couch next to him, kissing him on the lips. She placed a palm to his cheek, stroking at his stubble. "You were brilliant today…" Her breathing hitched as he cut her off. This was what he had wanted since they separated today on set. He wanted his lips upon hers, and as he cupped her face in his hands, he made that obviously apparent. That look of need returned, just as it had been, plastered all across her features. Emma gave in, not needing much prodding. This was everything she had been waiting for. For the first time, she felt how badly Rupert wanted her, just the way she wanted him to.  
  
"Rupes, I love you so much."  
  
"God, me too Ems…" He moaned a little, now completely covering her body with his own. The tight material of his jeans rubbed into her pelvis, sending him more pain that she ever received. Emma actually enjoyed the feeling of his weight on top of hers, with little to separate them. She had waited for this moment, or something like it, for a year now. Not wanting to ruin it, she stopped thinking, telling herself that her thoughts were anything but romantic. She wanted to be sexy for him, and as he nibbled at her bottom lip and turned them over, she needed no more convincing. She was his, and she was ready for him to know that.   
  
"Rupert, God!" It was her turn to moan, her lips forced into a circular shape as she cooed at his touch. His hands no longer felt callous or rough as he placed them at her hips. He guided her rocking, welcoming the movement of her on top of him. He promised himself that he'd never get sick of seeing her like this, breathless and lust-filled.   
  
They broke away, letting their eyelids slowly shudder open. Rupert slowly let his hands travel up her body. He took his time, feeling the skin that separated her panties and her bra. It was his, soft and supple and waiting. He wanted all of her right then, but he stopped himself, settling on ridding her of her sweater first.   
  
Emma was straddling him now. One leg was bunched up near her stomach while the other remained on the ground. Rupert sat up slightly. He crossed his arms over his chest, reaching for the hem of his shirt. She stopped him, replacing his hands with her own. It was she who pulled his shirt up over his head, immediately staring at the planes on his chest and the way his shoulders looked so much bigger without the constraint of cotton. She could see his briefs, the same Calvin Klein ones he always wore, peeking out above his faded denim. He was gorgeously stunning, and growing all the more impatient with her.   
  
Noticing this, Emma let him slowly push the material of her sweater down and off her shoulders. He kissed her freckled skin as he did so, tasting the tangerine body butter she must have applied after her shower. Her skin was wet with his kisses. They tickled and excited her in a way she couldn't describe.   
  
He was being slow with her, something she'd never be able to communicate how much she appreciated. It was Rupert though, and she wouldn't expect any less. No matter how much the two of them wanted this, and for whatever reasons, she felt she was a better person for giving in. It was no longer a competition of who had loved who longer. They simply loved each other, more than they'd ever be willing to admit. For the first time, they were in the same place, mentally and physically. This was overdue and all the more beautiful for that very reason.  
  
She was left in just her undergarments now, leaning forward to allow her hands free range of his chest. She ran a fingernail over his chest, finally retreating back to the point where her lips found his. She kissed up and down his chest, paying special attention to his neck, and the area behind his ears. Her kisses were like secrets, ones she trusted him to keep hidden from the rest of the world. Rupert's hands echoes Emma's, running down the scope of her back, kneading at the tight skin there. He begged to rid her of her top, but stopped himself with a single rational thought. Emma smiled at his hesitance, only leaning further into him as she kissed his lips again.  
  
"Ems, should we?"  
  
"No…" She moaned, grabbing at his member through his jeans. "Let's get these off," she said pointing to his jeans. Her fingers were already grabbing at the brown leather of his belt, tightening and then untightening the strap before pulling the constraint out of the loops completely. It came out quickly, Emma then throwing the weighty material to the floor with a slight fervor. It landed near where he had discarded her sweater, just inches away from his laptop bag.   
  
The couch they were on fit them both surprisingly well and the two began to wonder if this was the purpose the decorators ever had in mind when putting it here. She was leaning with her back against the back of the couch, as Rupert remained on his back. They kissed feverishly, like teenagers waiting to be walked in on. Emma snaked her hand underneath Rupert's jeans, feeling his legs even through the cotton of his briefs. He moaned into her mouth, growing increasingly hard the more time her fingers spent connected with his skin. He needed her more than he was sure she was ever able to give him.   
  
"Ems, oh god…" He bucked his hips in her direction as she took his length in her hand, giving it a few soft strokes through his boxers. "Ems, you're gonna have to stop soon." She ignored him, and instead slowed her ministrations down. Her other hand made idle work of pulling his jeans down. She grabbed ahold of the zipper of his jeans inching the material down his hips. He stopped her, helping the process, as he stood up and kicked his jeans off.   
  
On his feet, he pulled her up to join him. She obliged, wrapping her arms around his neck. They connected at the lips again, unsure of when they'd ever get enough of having their lips meet. She jumped up, and Rupert must have expected it, as he quickly let her body rest in his hands. Her legs were snaked around his waist now. Any lower and he'd explode, his mind growing dizzy at the thought.  
  
Emma pulled away and laughed. "God, I love you. I've wanted this for so long Rupes...so damn long," she said, now kissing at his neck again. He dropped his head back to give her more room. Minutes later she was back where she started, placing a simple kiss to his red lips.   
  
Rupert thumbed at the strap to her bra. It reminded Emma of Scotland. He's finally getting it, she thought, as he pushed both straps down her shoulders. Emma smiled into his actions, her arms remaining snaked around his neck. They crossed over themselves at the nape of his neck as her fingers languished played with the curly hairs there. Every so often she'd knead at his shoulders to only encourage what he was doing. Now, as he rid her of the material, her breasts spilling out over their cups, she dug her fingernails into his back. Sometimes the way he stared at her was too much for her to handle. She felt it deeply and wanted him to feel it too.   
  
Rupert took a nipple in his mouth. The action caused Emma to moan before pushing her chest closer into him. His other hand caressed at the skin of her other nub. Pulling his lips away, he kissed at the skin. His hot breath made it grow hard as he abandoned it, now paying equal attention to the other side of her body. This time when he pulled away, he flicked the sensitive skin. It made Emma smile mischievously, as she pulled at his neck, bringing his lips to hers again.   
  
She was on her feet now, stumbling back into the wall. One hand was in his hair, while the other grabbed at his length. His head dropped back again. He wasn't sure he'd ever get over her tiny hands stroking him up and down. "Is this okay?"  
  
Rupert stopped her, placing his much larger hand upon hers. He helped her into a rhythm and then pulled away, thinking it was time for her to do it on her own. It was incredibly sexy to watch her figure his body out, just as he had dreamed of doing the same with her. However, her lack of movement got him worried, like she was suddenly changing her mind while they both stood naked and vulnerable in her dressing room.  
  
Instead, Emma squatted down, using her knees as support as she reached for Rupert's briefs and pulled them down. She let the material pool at his ankles as she took his length in her hand and began to pump. He responded quickly, his hips slowly bucking toward her hand. She was still squatting when she reached forward and licked at his tip. It sent a shiver down his spine, watching her lips, the same ones he'd just been kissing, on top of his cock. There really was nothing sexier.  
  
She kissed up and down his length, making up for how much he had grown under her care. He was big, bigger than she had ever imagined. She enjoyed it though, knowing that it was all because of her and the way she took him in her mouth. She wished it was easier for her, but they both knew this was her first time doing any of this. She was glad to do it, she wanted to make him feel good, the way he had made her feel good so many times before. It was on different levels, but it all meant the same when executed properly. "I love you, Rupes". He released, quickly, and slightly out of nowhere. Emma didn't mind though, she swallowed as he did so, licking the rest of him dry.   
  
She did something else that almost made him lose it again. She wiped at her lips with the back of her hand, something Rupert had never seen her do before, not even when she ate a pastry that left her mouth white with powdered sugar. He was incredibly turned on causing him to immediately harden again. She kissed her way up his chest again, using his hips for leverage as she made her way north. It was his turn now to strip her panties off and lick at her center. He did this, but only after he picked her up and placed her on her desk. The action made Emma smile, and then quickly moan as he inserted two, then three fingers inside of her. She was tight, a confirmation that he loved. She really was his, and he'd never get sick of her affirming that. Her muscles contracted around him as he placed four fingers inside of her, then slowly pulled them out, taking them in his mouth to taste. They were both turned on, and by now, tired of foreplay. She needed him inside of her in the worst way.   
  
He obliged, picking her up again, and setting her down on the couch. He went to cover her with his body, but she stopped him, pressing a calm hand to his chest where his muscles created a little apex. Beneath her fingers, she felt his heart dancing. She wondered if hers felt the same way. "Can I be on top?"  
  
Rupert swallowed, completely caught off guard by her question. He never let any other girl be on top because they never asked and when they did they grew lazy, completely taking the fun out of the one night stand. He didn't answer her, but kissed her full on the lips. He then grabbed her bare bum and pulled her on top of him, sending her into a fit of giggles. She kissed him in appreciation, then sat straddling him, taking in all of his beautiful features.   
  
Their silence was interrupted as Rupert guided her hips over his length. Slowly, she let him fill her, and only when she was full did she cry out. "Hey, you okay?" His voice went from playful to concerned rather quickly. Emma just nodded, fighting a tear that was welling in the corner of her eye. Rupert didn't want to hurt her, and it honestly made him sick to know that he had caused that tear. "Ems, we can stop..."  
  
"No!," she said all too quickly. "No...just...just give me a minute." And he did. She said nothing, but a few moments later she was moving on top of him, rocking her hips into his. The tear from before had strolled down her cheek and landed on his nose as she kissed him through it all. He wiped it away only after he saw her smile. It was the reassurance he needed to meet her thrusts, rocking them both to their climax. It came a minute or two later, and then six times after that. It was Emma who slid him out of her when they finished, collapsing onto his chest as she nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck.   
  
Rupert pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and used it to cover them both. It worked, only barely, as Emma fought the sleep that was overtaking her eyes. As she did so, Adele continued to sing. "Nobody's perfect. Trust me I've learned it. I know it ain't easy, giving up your heart..." The lyric made Emma smile, comforting her almost as much as Rupert did. He couldn't stop kissing the top of her head, breathing her in every time he did so. The music continued until the record ran out, only playing white noise for the room and its two inhabitants. They didn't mind, it was the most calm they'd been all day. Emma swore to herself that she could stay like this forever, and she wanted to. She slept peacefully that night, and when she woke up in the middle of the night and saw Rupert in the same position she'd left him, she knew he had as well. She fell asleep again, but only after she woke him up. The two just spent time staring at each other and taking all of this in.   
  
"Wow," Rupert breathed out.   
  
Emma kissed his cheek. "Yeah, wow."  
  


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x. Elle 


	25. Awkward Goodbye

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
A/N: This chapter is short and filled with a bit of exposition, but in a way I think it's very Rupert/Emma. Still, I feel like most of you will hate me following the previous chapter with this one. That being said, it needs to be done.   
  
Song: _Awkward Goodbye_ \- Athlete**   
  


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Filming usually equated waiting for everyone involved. Almost a month had passed since that night in the dressing room, and while Rupert and Emma thought about that night a lot, they had yet to experience anything like it since. They were wrapping up filming, today being their last day. They had one scene left to film and then they were done. Everyone knew something had changed, and yet their demeanor made them think everything was back to normal, that the two had fallen apart and resorted back to being friends. In all honesty, they were just busy and slightly exhausted. They had no time for feelings, or anything else besides work and promotions. Part 1 of Deathly Hallows was being released in a week and there was so much to do. None of this included breakfast dates and talking, all of which had been forgotten in the shuffle.   
  
They smiled at press releases and joked and laughed about the much anticipated kiss. Rupert's favorite part was playing it off as if he didn't remember it, knowing secretly this one comment drove Emma up the wall like no other. Emma played along, just as their publicists had told them to. She ended every interview with a smile and a handshake, just as Rupert had done. And on the interviews where they sat down together, they kept a casual distance between themselves and smiled coyly when the interviewer would ask if they were dating in real life.   
  
The press had a field day with their various spottings out around London, at pubs and restaurants with their families. Anytime they were together, they were followed. They had specific rules they were supposed to follow, ones they rarely slipped up on. They weren't allowed to hold hands in public, touch, kiss, or talk to the paparazzi. The studio pushed for the PDA aspect of it all, hoping it would boost speculation for the movie, while their friends and family wanted all of this kept private. Dan went as far to say that they had worked so hard to get it to this point, it should only be theirs to relish in. They did just that, taking the advice of their mutual best friend. Emma meant what she said, months ago when extras on set scrutinized her relationship with the ginger-headed boy standing directly behind her; she wasn't ashamed of him or their relationship but it was their relationship and she aimed to keep it as such.   
  
It seemed that the more the two were asked about their friendship, the more it seemed to turn into that very thing. They kissed and chatted briefly, in hotels on press tours, and late at night over skype. They barely saw each other. While one was in Norway filming another movie, the other was in Paris doing the same. They never had time to be together, and now, filming re-edits, it hit them all like a punch to the heart, sending their heartbeat on its own syncopated track.   
  
They were done now, the last "cut!" to ever be heard on the Harry Potter set was called, sending the trio into a fit of hysterics. The crew was crying too, as was every other actor on standby. They had waited years for this, and as they neared the end, they wanted nothing more than to dig their heels into the ground bringing the entire process to a screeching halt. Unfortunately, that was not an option, and now as crew members began putting equipment in trucks and sending it off to the studio hub in London, it was all too real.   
  
Emma thought of herself as this nine year old girl, and then she opened her eyes, seeing herself now. She stood much taller now at the age of twenty one. This was a dream come true, and now the dream was over. She was free to sleep and do as she pleased. Just as she thought this, she wanted to be tied to the project again. She would forever be thankful to it for bringing her amazing friends, and people she called family when hers was always so far away. She, of course, loved this experience for giving her Rupert. She even remembered whispering that to him through tears as they watched their final scene.   
  
Rupert felt similarly, feeling his legs grow weak as he imagined where his life would be without all of this. Of course he'd probably never have met each other, though he liked to look at this thought in disbelief. He always wanted to believe that something else would have pulled them together, if not this movie. His mind always went blank, thinking of what project that would be.   
  
Emma would be leaving for school soon, and then Rupert would be alone in London, apartment searching and looking for work. He needed her, now more than ever, at the same time she was pushed into all of these other things. He wanted that girl from her dressing room, the one so carefree and happy just to be around him. He knew she was somewhere beneath it all but he fought to find her. All he saw now, standing in front of him still in hair and wardrobe from the scene they had just finished, was the girl he considered a best friend. She was nothing more than that, and while he still thought she was beautiful, she wasn't his like he wanted. They were back to square one, staring aimlessly as they awaited the arrival of the future and a separation that would no doubt challenge them.   
  


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x. Elle 


	26. Where You Are

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
A/N: Another short chapter, sorry! It's just the way it was written, nothing personal.  
  
Song: _Where You Are_ \- Gavin DeGraw**   
  


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Months passed, and no matter where they were, Rupert and Emma never went a day without speaking. It was only when you asked them what they were and where they were in their relationship that they went quiet. Neither had an answer, though they both knew what they wanted. They had no time to talk, between Emma's classes and Rupert's latest movie. The time difference helped none as it seemed that when Rupert was waking up, he had to wait for Emma to rise. When she was finally awake, he was filming. When he got around to calling her at dinner time, she was in class or at the library.   
  
On Wednesdays, instead of coffee and muffins, they found each other over a thin wire of internet. Emma locked herself in her dorm room, turned on her computer, and let him make her laugh. Soon, that became obsolete, as Emma found herself cast in a play on campus and Rupert had yet another movie to film. It was stressful, something that showed in both their work and personal lives. Rupert was reprimanded by his director, and Emma failed a test, her first ever. A pain seeped deeply into their hearts, begging to be paid attention to. There was no cure, but they needed to want each other so much it hurt.   
  
Leaving class, Emma felt her phone go off. She smiled to herself loving how well he knew her schedule. "Hey you!" She beamed casually. He was never given a name when she was on campus. Though most of the girls in her building were under a confidentiality agreement, everyone else owed her nothing. She was just waiting for her name to appear in the tabloids from a drinking binge she went through the other night after missing Rupert got to be a little too much.   
  
She could hear him smiling through the phone. "God Ems, I miss you…"  
  
"I miss you too. So damn much." She bit at her lip, placing a pointer finger there. Her words had never been more sincere. He was five thousand, four-hundred, and twenty kilometers too far away. "What're you up to? How's work?"  
  
"Whoa, slow down. Work's good. It's bloody freezing in Norway…"  
  
"I thought you liked the cold?" Rupert chuckled. In all honesty, he didn't like much of anything lately. He was miserable to say the least, and he hated himself for getting into all of this with her, just months before it was all scheduled to end. He heard her mumble something to someone about cream and sugar. It was quickly followed by a bleep of white noise over the phone and then, "Sorry Rupes…"  
  
He had gotten used to her spaciness, and the way she was no longer completely his. She was in America now, dealing with people he'd never understand in places he'd never traveled to. It hurt to think of all of it and how it affected her, but every time he talked to her over the phone, she never sounded any different and it only made him miss her even more.   
  
"What are you up to for the rest of the day?"  
  
"Studying, mostly. I have a huge exam on Monday, why?" Emma stirred at her coffee, a few of her friends waving to her as she did so. They stared at her, figuring she was on the phone with Rupert. She didn't speak about him or anyone from that part of her world much but when she did, her face lit up, and she was smiling for many moments after. Their situation needed no words, her friends just knew. They also knew not to prod as Emma was one of the most private people they had ever met.   
  
"Do you want to go get a drink with me later?"  
  
"What?" She almost choked on the beverage in her hand, not sure if it was the temperature or his words that sent her mind swimming.   
  
"I'm at the airport now, you see, this girl I kind of fancy bought me plane tickets to come see her, and now I was wondering if that same girl wanted to go get ale with me later…?"   
  


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x. Elle 


	27. Meteor Shower

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too. I do not own the creativity behind the beach scenes, depicted in these photographs: (<http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lh8ivrZ5SN1qaw7fro1_500.jpg> ) Don't even get me started on how special I think this day was for them...  
  
Song: _Meteor Shower_ \- Owl City**   
  


* * *

  
  
She was dressed differently than he remembered her. But after a few minutes of talking, and a quick passionate kiss on the lips, he knew that this was the same girl he had brought to the airport, three months earlier. Her hair was darker, back to it's natural light brown shade. She hid it under a bowler hat. Ray Bans covered her eyes and her feet were covered with motorcycle boots. An oversized sweater, one only he knew to be his, covered her upper body, and a pair of tight skinny jeans covered her legs. She seemed to be more relaxed, but her eyes still craved sleep. Still, she was his Emma, and because of this he longed to get her alone. Rupert needed more than the kiss they shared in the airport after he picked her up and spun her around as a couple dozen people looked on.  
  
She saw him in a similar light. His hair was shorter, something she had discovered was the result of his latest project. It looked good on him, as age and exhaustion became more prominent on his face. His features were more subtle now, hidden behind a thin layer of stubble. Her delicate fingers begged to scratch at his skin. She wanted her lips resting upon his, maybe even kissing down his neck, as his facial hair teased at her cheeks. Emma hated herself for wanting him this way, yet she thought of nothing else as she clung to his arm and walked down the street.   
  
The cab from the airport took them into the art district of Providence. It was a little town, the way Emma and Rupert sometimes saw London. Only the city looked like it hadn't been touched in a hundred or so years. It was almost as if a man with a plan set his eyes on the horizon, erected a few buildings, and then left the land settled so much so that nobody ever questioned his methods. The skyline was characterized by buildings of all different heights with a steady river flowing adjacent to what Emma pointed out as her favorite street. Rupert smiled all the while, watching her face light up as she told him about this new place she called home.   
  
But it wasn't that really. No, it wasn't that at all. Although Emma never said such things, her words wreaked of it. She missed London, she missed the set, and she missed him. If she was being honest with herself, she even missed the long hours spent wet and cold sprawled out in the middle of some landscape. She remember that day perfectly, the one from last year where Rupert and her ran up and down the coastline of a small private beach in Wales. She remembered throwing caution to the wind, pretending she was a character in a romantic novel she only wished she had time to read. She felt the water encompass her feet and seep into her boots. Her feet were instantly frigid, immediately becoming one with the rest of her chilled body. Still, she stood, unafraid of Rupert who had just grabbed at her waist causing her to laugh minutes earlier. Then she sprinted off, letting the wind kiss her face as she threw her arms back and confronted the sea head on.   
  
The day was fresh in her mind. She could still remember how it felt to then run a scene with a body that was not hers. The cold sea air had caused her shoulders to shake, but as she leaned back into Rupert that day, she felt a tingle of warmth in her hands. What her mittens could not provide, she felt as he snaked his arm around her and pulled her in close. She remembered going to his trailer afterward, wrapping them both in a blanket as they shared a few tender kisses before going home. That was the last time her lips met his, and she begged to find a way back to then, no matter how cold she was in his trailer, to feel his wet shirt against her as she ran her fingers through his hair was exactly what she craved.  
  
Rupert opened the door for her, the pub Emma had recommended was quiet and crowded. It was just as she had described it, typically Irish and dark. The deep maroon booths were lit by a small hanging lamp. The space was small, and intimate. It was just what Rupert thought he and Emma needed. With his hand on the small of her back he guided her inside. A few of the boys at the bar stared, immediately causing Rupert to notice. He was brought back a few days on set, when he wasn't sure how much of Emma belonged to him, especially with the way the male actors looked her up and down. He knew how beautiful she was, it was one of the reasons he wanted her so badly. Yet, it wasn't the only reason and sometimes he felt pity for the boys who hated him because of the relationship he shared with Emma. They had no idea how much more there was to her, how much her ridiculous comments made him laugh, and how incredibly sexy her brain was. In that same breath, he hoped he was the only one to ever see that part of her. He liked that she was his and he wanted that to always be the case.   
  
"C'mon," Emma said, pointing to a booth in the back. She had eyed it from the moment they entered the large room. It must have been where she usually sat, Rupert thought.   
  
Both hung up their coats from the hook that hang above Emma's head. Rupert waited for her to sit, then he joined her. He sat like the kid that he was, on one of his legs while the other dangled down toward the ground. "You look good, Ems"  
  
"You think?" She spoke too soon. She was wondering what he'd say when she finally got him alone. Him telling her she was beautiful at the airport did nothing for her, or at least not what she was expecting it to do. It didn't help either, at least not the way she had planned it to, when he told her several times how much he missed her. He was only confirming what she knew to be true, and yet she wanted so much more. She hated herself for thinking it, and even more for knowing it to be so true; she wanted to skip dinner and spend time just the two of them, maybe on the bed back in his hotel. She wanted her head on his chest as she drew love letters on the heather grey material of his v-neck. She wanted him to kiss the top of her head while they pretended to be interested in the movie they ordered. Then she wanted him to show her just how much she was missed. She wanted his mouth to take in every part of her and tell her things his words could not.   
  
Rupert nodded, smiling at the waitress who just walked away after taking their order. She seemed to know Emma, as the two shared a casual smile. "You know you always look good."  
  
"You look good too. I like the stubble...movie role or laziness?"  
  
"Both?"   
  
Emma chuckled. She reached out across the table, taking his hands in her own. "It's so nice to see you Rupes, I needed this…"  
  
"You okay?" He searched her eyes for an answer. He only saw something he wanted to brush off; pain, he thought, or maybe exhaustion. He had seen it before, but never like this. "Ems…"  
  
"I'm tired, I think. Stressed out, really. And it's not the way I was on set, you know? Like with that, at the end of the day I loved my job and I loved everyone I spent my time with." She looked up now, her eyes locking on his. "Now, it's just so different. People stare sometimes and I can't tell if I'm supposed to enjoy it because this is college and this is normal or if I'm supposed to feel as low as I do. It's like they only think I'm hear because of my career and sometimes I begin to believe it…"  
  
"Ems, love…"  
  
"No, please let me finish, okay? You're the only one I can say all of this to and I need to get it out." Rupert sighed, signaling for Emma to continue. She did, but only after sipping at her wine. "The workload is ridiculous. And it's either easy or ridiculously difficult. And I try so hard to enjoy it but sometimes I just want to shut my books and crawl into bed. I think I wanted this for so long. I thought that this was my ticket to being normal. I thought this would fix everything."  
  
"What were you trying to fix?" He cut her off. He then sipped at his beer, slowly setting the beverage back down on its napkin as he felt the foam slide down his throat.   
  
"I don't know. I always wanted to go to school."  
  
"You mean you didn't enjoy tutoring with Dan and me?"  
  
Emma sighed, giving Rupert a look that only made him laugh. "You know I love school, Rupes. This is just...it's mad."  
  
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"   
  
Emma shook her head, swallowing at her ruby red beverage. "Why Rupes? We have better things to talk about, sometimes. And sometimes when we don't, I don't want you worrying about me…"  
  
"Why not? You worry about me!"  
  
"No, I don't...okay, yes I do, but still!"  
  
Rupert laughed, this time hoping she heard the sincerity in the way he scoffed. It was true, sometimes Emma did nothing but worry about him. She knew how broken he felt with filming ending and her leaving didn't seem to help much. Of course he'd be fine, the way Rupert always was. A part of Emma, however, reveled in the fact that she was the reason for his misery. She'd never tell anyone but him how happy that made her and even when she did confess this to him, her breathe was drowned out by her drunk mumbles. This was, of course, the night before she woke up hungover and sick from missing him so much. "How are your classes?"  
  
"Good."  
  
"Ems…"  
  
"They're good, I swear! And I'm doing so well in them! But I hate going sometimes and I hate raising my hand to answer a question. I feel like I'm always being judged. Or like if I wear sweats to class, they stare like they're expecting me to walk in straight off the red carpet and I'm exhausted. I'm obviously not going to live up to this person they think I am, because it's not me!"  
  
"Ems, you done, love?" Emma breathed in sharply, then nodded quickly. Rupert did his best not to laugh; she was just too cute. Eventually, a slight chuckle escaped his lips, causing her to shoot him a look of shock. He ducked, expecting a sugar packet or a tooth pick to come flying his direction. The air remained clear as she just joined him in laughing. It was the first time she laughed and meant it since she arrived on campus months ago.   
  
"How about you?"  
  
"Works good...it's work."  
  
"Do you see everyone often?"  
  
He wasn't going to ruin knowing what she was talking about by asking. He nodded. "Tom, mostly. I saw Dan in New York a month ago…"  
  
"Yeah, I just missed you. I went the following weekend."  
  
"We should have planned better…" His voice carried. Emma breathed in deeply, needing air as he stared at her from across the table. Sometimes she swore he saw more of her than she ever wanted anyone to see. She knew this to be true even after that night in her dressing room. It wasn't that she wanted parts of herself to be hidden from the world, and for that matter, Rupert was different. It was more the idea of him having the ability to see past all of her bluster and good looks. He saw her heart, or the way she sighed when she was sitting without a word to say. It frightened her right down to her bones. Sometimes she swore Rupert knew her more than she knew herself. She found comfort in the idea only when she realized this was true for him too.   
  
On the way home, she once again settled against him as the two moved their feet in rhythm. Her head found solace on his shoulder as both her arms wrapped around his one. His leather jacket was cool, but she didn't feel it as her hands ran up and down the length of his arm for warmth. Her gloves protected her fingertips from the night wind that whipped at them as they walked back to Emma's dorm. Rupert didn't know, but Emma had a plan. In retrospect, she always did, and like any other time, he planned on letting her take the lead. Dan and him had learned long ago, in a way similar to the characters they played had done early on, that Emma was not to be questioned. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy the challenge, or that anyone was afraid of giving it to her, but rather that Emma had a way of making things work.   
  
The beanie on Rupert's head covered most of his hair, leaving little curls to peak out around his eyes. It didn't stop him from playing around, twirling the red tresses between his fingers as they walked on. They were on campus now, and Emma was surprised to find herself content with his actions. She normally hated when he played with his hair. He did it often, and usually because he was nervous around her. Since Scotland, she rarely caught his fingers reaching for his head. Instead, he was content with them wrapped up in her own, or tugging at the clothing she wore as they waited to film their next scene, tucked away in the corner of a set.   
  
Campus glowed, deep blues against warm ambers. Institutional watt lamps lit the main corridor leading Emma and Rupert off the academic quad and toward where her dorm was. It was a nice building, tucked neatly between the school's athletic facilities and another dorm. It was a high-rise, with fourteen floors; especially tall for Providence. Emma lived on the fourth floor, a co-ed floor with two separate shared bathrooms for boys and girls. She hated it at first, but then began to love how simply normal it all was. Or at least that's what she told herself.  
  
"Are you coming up?"  
  
"Do you think that's a good idea? I mean…" Rupert struggled to find a way to express himself without sounding like too much of anything. He didn't want to seem desperate for her the way he truly was, but he also didn't want to seem like he was brushing her off. That was the last thing he ever wanted to do.   
  
"My roommate is visiting her boyfriend in Hartford…" Emma moved in. Her lips were nearly brushing Rupert's, something he took notice of immediately.   
  
"I'm going to pretend I know where that is…"  
  
Emma nodded, leaning in to nip at his skin. Rupert moaned into her mouth, only reassuring her of everything she hoped he was feeling. Her hands grabbing at the back of his neck did the same thing for him. They needed each other and they needed this.   
  
Breaking apart only to breathe, Emma pulled Rupert toward her building. She quickly swiped her card and pushed at the door, only after hearing the beep and seeing the little green light. Rupert followed closely behind, enjoying the atmosphere of everything. She stopped him, pushing him against the wall before kissing him full on the lips. A few doors were open down the hall, each marked by a different music genre floating out of them. Rupert and Emma soon heard each of them less as they stumbled up the stairs, lips attached and limbs aching to touch.  
  


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x. Elle 


	28. Kiss Me

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
Song: _Kiss Me_ \- Ed Sheeran**  
  


* * *

  
  
Emma couldn't help it. She had this ugly habit of comparing Rupert to all of the other men that walked in and out of her life. He was unlike them, and because of this, it made the game she played with herself easy. She liked that everything with him was just now figuring itself out, even after several years of stubbornness and hurt. She blamed herself for both, of course, but not once did she ever overlook how often he crept into her mind then and now, with him propped up on his elbow, staring down at her, she was reminded of how much better he was. She wanted to smack a palm to her forehead or even laugh the situation off, but instead, her lips distracted her mind as she kissed at his neck while he traveled further south. She told herself she'd never get sick of the way his skin felt against hers. It was something she had craved for so long, and something she needed now more than ever.   
  
There was a freckle near the ball of her foot. It rested right below her ankle and peaked out at the top of her ballet flats whenever she walked. He usually started there, holding up her leg at an angle that made her giggle. Jay had never seen her this way. Emma was positive he didn't deserve her the way she knew she deserved so much more than he could ever give. He wanted her like this, naked and beautiful for him. She just wasn't his to have. Emma never gave herself to Jay the way she had just fully given herself to Rupert six or seven times already that night, adding to the pile of ten or eleven times they had made love. It made her giggle just as much as Rupert's lips on the inner skin of her calf did. In comparison, Jay really never had her at all.   
  
He was traveling north now, his lips barely lapping at her skin at all. Yet it was the closest she had felt with anyone in some time. The tingling her skin experienced, accompanied by the various patterns of goosebumps that appeared on her skin made her mouth coo at his touch. The last time her heart felt this way, was in her dressing room nearly four months ago. That moment was also shared with him. She was attached, a word she picked and deemed perfect as Rupert neared the apex of her thighs. They must have been in this position for nearly ten minutes and yet the moment seemed to dance away. It was just as excited as she was and Emma wondered if it was also relished the way he made her feel so utterly adored. At one point she remembered Sophie telling her how this was the one thing George always wanted to give her, if only she had let him in. It wasn't George's place to be, and it wasn't because her and Jay were always so inconsistent. Rupert was the only boy that Emma ever wanted to love her like this. Naked, vulnerable, and enveloped in the moment, she wanted nothing more than to give him that he gave her. "I love you," she whispered quickly before biting at her lip.   
  
He said nothing, and instead placed his hand on her hip. Her body guided him up, his lips dipping at her naval, licking the sensitive skin there. Emma giggled again, dropping her head back as she pushed the weight of her upper body into her pillow. Her mind was dizzy, and she wondered if Rupert could feel her stomach turning underneath his touch. He'd never tell her, but her tummy was his favorite; flat and understated. He loved all of her, this and the way she was always his, but in moments like this, it was the small things, her fingertips and her messy hair, that made him want her more. As his lips kissed circles around her nipples, the skin grew hard. Only his hot breath could remedy it, as he took most of her left breast in his mouth before paying special attention to the other side of her body.   
  
Emma was tense, growing more and more shy the closer he got to her mouth. Still, all she wanted to do was to bring his mouth back up to hers, and kiss him feverishly. Even this night was not enough. "Rupes…" She moaned, her lips begging him to stop teasing. Rupert ignored her pleas, knowing she was enjoying this as much as he was. He wanted her mouth on his, but not yet. She had done her share of teasing that night and now it was his turn. Rupert liked to think that his version was more harmless. Emma's tongue and slow kisses up and down the length of his shaft had him writhing more than Emma as he left traces of himself along the outer spaces of her smooth limbs.   
  
"Will you be patient, please?" And then his head was back down, attacking her neck as his hands held her arms to the bed above her head. Emma laughed, loving this view of him, his red hair mussed and perfect. It appeared in blurbs as his head bobbed up and down along her skin. He paid special attention to her neck. Emma's body immediately softened under his touch. Rupert sensed this and allowed his eyes to catch on hers for only a moment. She nodded, his lips suddenly returning to the perfect patch of skin between her collarbone and ear. His lips lingered just long enough to leave a mark. She was his, and the rest of the world had a right to know. Emma loved and hated it all; it was true and she loved him even more as he lapped at her skin, soothing the now purple area. She wondered if anyone would be smart enough to connect the dots. She wanted the world to see them as they were, just not like this, naked and wanting in her dorm room at just a little after three o'clock.   
  
When their lips finally met, Rupert felt how hungry she was for him. She breathed him in, needing oxygen to mix with his other fresh scents. In particular, she loved his aftershave and his deodorant and the way he smelled like a boy: her boy. Jay always wore this Scottish cologne that made Emma sneeze, while George sometimes smelled too pretty. Rupert was perfect, right down to his freckles and the way more appeared as he smiled at her. She dreamed of a moment that lasted so long she'd someday be able to count them.  
  
Rupert said something, anything, sending Emma into a fit of giggles again. She couldn't remember the last time she laughed this much. All she knew was that he was probably there, only not like this. She imagined him in ripped jeans and a t-shirt, the way she and the rest of the world often saw him. This was the same Rupert she called her best friend, just a different version of him. He was hers, and she feigned counting the hours until he'd be back on a plane, traveling away from her.   
  
"Was it awkward kissing Dan?" The silence was gone, taken over by Rupert's words and Emma's immediate reaction. She laughed loudly, nearly snorting before quickly covering her mouth.   
  
"Awkward? No...it's just...I think it's what I tell everyone kissing you is like," she paused. "It's like kissing my brother. Which...ew."  
  
"I'd kiss Alex."  
  
Emma grabbed the pillow from the floor, flailing the soft material at Rupert's head. He laughed into the fabric, sending them both into another fit. "You're so crude…" She breathed in. It was her turn now to prop her head up on her elbow as she hovered above him. Ever since that night in her dressing room, he had fallen in love with this view of her. "Was it weird kissing Jessie?"  
  
"Yes." Rupert didn't skip a beat.   
  
"That's mean, Rupes!"  
  
"What! She's a nice girl but it was odd. I was awkward, poor girl had to deal with my nose and chapped lips…"  
  
"Funny, people say the same thing to _me_ about you…" Emma stuck her tongue out at Rupert. He kissed it away, taking it inside his mouth as the two laughed their way through it all. It was amazing to Rupert how quickly they could go from being intimate, back into their friend stage. It made them wonder why they hadn't explored this part of their friendship sooner. "I hated that storyline, do you remember?" Rupert shook his head, encouraging Emma to explain. "I told Jo I thought it was bloody awful. I think Ron loved Hermione so much that even if he wanted some, he wouldn't date someone else like that…"  
  
"You think he just dated Lavender to get some?"  
  
"Well don't you…?"  
  
"No. Not at all," he corrected. "Ron and Hermione are soulmates. They were each other's firsts…"  
  
"You think?"  
  
"Well don't you…?"  
  
"I always thought that Ron and Lavender at least fooled around. Sometimes people love each other and that doesn't keep them from waiting…"  
  
A silence and then: "Say it Ems...I've been waiting for this-"  
  
"Rupert, stop. I'm not even trying to get at anything. I don't care. You have your needs, I get that. I'm not mad I'm just curious-"  
  
"Ems, we're in bed together naked after probably one of the best nights of my life. I love you and I know you love me because you've told me several times. Do you realize how long I've waited for this? I never thought this would ever happen. I didn't know there was anything to wait for…"  
  
"I waited for you."  
  
"And I love you for that. But I was here all along. I never had a girlfriend. There were girls, sure. I fucked around and I was a complete prat. But we're here now. I had to watch you with Jay and George. Give me a break…"  
  
Emma nodded. She kissed his cheek, then set her chin on his chest. "You're right. I'm sorry."  
  
"I don't want to be right...are you okay, love?"  
  
Emma smiled, not showing her teeth, but meaning it all the same. "I get scared, Rupes. We have these amazing nights and then we don't see each other for months. What are we?"  
  
"You're my best friend. Do we need a label?"  
  
"It would be nice…"  
  
"Well, I don't like boyfriend. I'd like to think we're past that. It's like it devalues everything we've worked for."  
  
Emma nodded. She said nothing, instead allowing her body to snuggle into Rupert's. She moved her head off his chest and placed it in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He wasn't Jay or George, and he never would be because he never had been. It scared her though, how even with the trust she instilled in him, how she was quick to find fault so she could shut down and run away.   
  


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x. Elle   
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	29. Planes

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
Song: _Planes_ \- Jason Mraz**   
  


* * *

  
  
"Rupes..." They had spent the entire night taking turns watching each other sleep. Almost as if they were on watch and their sleeping patterns hadn't been given the proper time to catch up to one another. They were running in circles and neither Emma nor Rupert knew who was following who. "You know I hate when you do that," she finished.   
  
He smiled, pulling her close. He kissed her temple and she immediately responded by grabbed at his neck and the back of his head bringing his lips down to hers. "Don't leave me today."  
  
"Ems, I have to..."  
  
"Rupes I hate this. I need you here. Last night was..."  
  
His mind traveled to meet hers and for a moment they were still, in exactly the same place. "I know...God, I know Ems..."  
  
"Just another day?"  
  
"You have class tomorrow and I have to be on set by noon...I can't Ems. But you have to believe I want to-" She wanted to roll over and pout, but her ringtone, something British and loud interrupted her thoughts. It caused her to turn, but for a reason other than the one she had in mind and suddenly she had forgotten what made her feel like a stubborn teenager in the first place.   
  
She clicked the button on the top of her phone, causing her screen to go black before a little blue square appeared signaling she had missed a call. It began ringing again, but only after she saw that the blue square was immediately replaced with a much longer list of missed calls, voicemails, and texts.   
  
"I have to get this..."   
  
Now it was Rupert's turn to pout. "Who is it?"   
  
"Kasey...my roommate," she slid her thumb against the bottom of her already smudged iPhone screen. "Hey Kay...no, I'm in the dorms, why?"   
  
Rupert gave Emma a look causing her to put the phone on speaker. "-the girls said you didn't go out last night and you just disappeared after class and Sammi called me this morning saying she hadn't heard from you and that maybe you met someone-"  
  
"Kase, ew!"  
  
"Oh thank god! Brown boys are just...ew."  
  
"But Kay I kind of need the room for a bit this morning-"  
  
"Emma, you didn't. What about the boy from home?" Rupert smiled.   
  
A pause and then: "It is the boy from home" His smile didn't waiver.   
  
"Oh good I finally get to meet him! I'm walking into the dorms now. Put some clothes on, skank!" Then she hung up, as if this talk was casual and welcomed. He wanted to pull her back into him and spend the next hour snuggling as they tasted each other's skin. That idea ran away just as his skin grew cold and he began thinking of where Emma had thrown his clothes last night so he could mentally pack to go home.  
  
Rupert wondered how much Emma talked about him and now he knew without really knowing much at all. She talked about him without calling him by his name. He was the boy from home and presumably everyone thought Rupert was just a friend. It was ironic really, but Rupert saw himself in a similar way. In moments like this, with Emma's naked chest pressed up against him beneath layers of blankets, he was the boy from home. Soon, when he'd collect the clothing from the floor and put it back on his tired body, he'd resort to being her best friend again. Either way, he was hers. He needed her to know that and he wished that she felt this with him too.   
  
The door opened, Rupert was now sitting on the edge of the bed tying his shoes. Emma had just finished brushing her hair and throwing it up in a messy bun. A tight-fitting university hoodie covered her upper body as skinny jeans and sneakers hid the rest of her. Rupert wanted nothing more than to take a shower and fly back to London but he also wanted her to come with him for both the warm water and the flight. Last night would never be enough and as Emma walked to the door to unhitch the latch, they both knew that.   
  
"Em, c'mon!"  
  
"I'm coming!"  
  
"Is he?-" Kasey stopped staring at Rupert who just smiled at her with a closed mouth. "Hi...kasey," she stuck her hand out.   
  
"Rupert..."  
  
"I know who you are, I mean-ohmigod I'm so sorry!" she covered her mouth quickly looking to Emma for support. "I just thought...wow, Emma, I had no idea!" It was only then that Rupert saw the walls that covered Emma's dorm. Both sides of the room were littered with picture frames and photos stuck to the wall with blue putty and tape. He was surprised to see that a good majority of the wall was him and her at various stages throughout their lives. Three separate picture frames sat on the top shelf of Emma's desk, and Rupert found himself appearing in two of the photos. One was him, Emma and Dan while the other was just him and Emma, at the beach in Wales. He hadn't seen it in some time, and if he was being honest with himself, he barely remembered it being taken. All he remembered from that day was the way the wind knotted her hair as she leaned back into him for warmth. Now, his mind traveled from who knew but to how much they knew. He was everywhere without ever meeting her group of friends. It was intimidating, and yet he loved it. He'd rather be the best friend in photos than the boy from home. He wanted a face and a few memories as well. Mostly he wanted to show all of this off the way Emma had confessed her feelings on plaster and paint.  
  
"Can we please not make a big deal about this? I don't talk about it for a reason..." Rupert's smile faded.   
  
"I can't believe 'Rupes'," she said as if clearly quoting Emma's previous ramblings, "is the boy from home. I just thought he was your friend. A really close friend that you talk about all the time...oh, this totally makes sense..." Kasey's voice trailed off as she placed a pondering finger to her lips.  
  
"Kasey, stop!" Emma's voice was stern. It seemed to catch the brunette off guard while Rupert just sat waiting for further instructions. "Rupes I called you a cab to take you back to the hotel. You ready?" She was speaking to him now as if Kasey had disappeared. She looked at him similarly, wanting him back in bed bringing her warmth. He just nodded and they were off. Emma grabbed her phone and her keys before slamming the door behind her tired, agitated form.  
  
The door opened soon thereafter. Emma's five minutes contrasted with what felt like hours for Kasey. She had so many questions, all of which she forgot about as she heard Emma collapse by the door in a huddle of concentrated tears. By the time Kasey got to her, her cheeks were wet and her face was red. Her body seemed to be shaking, the wall acting as the only form of support as her head spun needing him so much closer. He was already on his way to the airport then he'd be home, a place she didn't know existed until she was far enough away from London and the boy that always kept her spirits up to acknowledge how much she missed certain places and people.   
  
Distance did make the heart grow fonder but it also made her heart beat slowly enough that it hurt. After they kissed outside of the cab, she didn't let go. It was only after he removed his hands from the back of her jean pockets that she felt herself detach from him. She couldn't remember if people were staring and she didn't really care. For the first time she didn't care about the world seeing and therefore judging the boy she was with. Rupert was finally hers and she wanted to scream and dance around campus letting everyone know. If only he was there long enough for there to be proof of their relationship and the night they had just shared.   
  
"Emma, honey..."  
  
"He's gone Kay. As usual...he's gone."  
  
"Em-"  
  
"I just want to go home."  
  
"Home?"  
  
"London. Rupert. My home."  
  
"Ems, the semester is almost over. Then it's Christmas and the new year..."  
  
"I used to see him everyday and now I'm lucky if I get to see him once a week. I can't do it Kasey. I can't do any of this. I need him and he's gone and I can't be open with anyone about these things because I can't even admit to anyone that I love him the way I really do. God, I love him Kase and he's so good to me and he makes me laugh and I feel so beautiful around him. He's perfect and I'm scared." She paused. "I'm really fucking scared. Because finally I'm loving someone that loves me for me and he's so far away. I've finally found something and I have to let it go."  
  
"Em, no..."  
  
"That's terrifying. This terrifies me. And he's gone and I'm here and I need him as a best friend but I've let him in past all of that. He's who I'd talk about all of this to but he's on a plane now and he's not my best friend anymore, is he?"  
  
"Em, of course he is." She was speaking blindly. Emma had spoken to her about her best friend and she had spoken to her about the boy from home, but Kasey barely knew Rupert.  
  
"No...no, he's not. He never will be. We can't get that back, can we?"  
  


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x. Elle 


	30. Miles

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
Song: _Miles_ \- Christina Perri**   
  


* * *

  
  
Rupert rummaged through the cabinets of his parents home, looking for something he could keep down. Eating was not something he excelled at lately. Sleep didn't come easy either. It hurt, but only when he thought about it and if he was ever being honest with himself, it was sometimes all he did.   
  
What he did excel at was pretending everything was okay. His bed was too big for him alone, something he never noticed before they began spending nights together. He hated sleeping with the windows open, even if she wasn't there to tell him exactly how chilly the wind was against her bare shoulders.   
  
Mostly, he was moody. He was quiet, more than anyone else thought was possible. It was only if you were lucky and you caught him on the phone with her that his face would light up and he'd smile, his cheeks echoing what everyone knew to be true on the other line.   
  
"Rupert, what did you call your sister?"  
  
"Which one?"  
  
"Oh dear, my boy. What is wrong with you?"  
  
"I called her a bitch because she was being a bitch. She doesn't need to be in my room. She can't borrow my car. That's it."  
  
"Rupert, will you talk to me please?"  
  
"No." He didn't look at her. Even if he had, his eyes would have been empty the way they always were lately.  
  
"Rupert..."  
  
"What do you want me to say? This sucks." He didn't snap. Snapping required a separation or breaking of some sort. Instead, Rupert grew to be flexible, as he mastered bending. It allowed him room for emotion without completely disengaging altogether. "You all think you know what's going on but you don't. Yeah, I miss her. And it hurts. But this sucks. This sucks more than I ever thought it would..."  
  
"Rupert, we care. It's just, ever since you got your apartment you've been so closed up. We worry..."  
  
"Well, don't!"   
  
His words stung his mother. "Is that it then?"  
  
"Yeah that's it" He continued to scavenge through the cabinets. He eventually gave up, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and bringing it over to the fridge to fill it with water.   
  
"You know I hate it when there's tension in this house."  
  
He whirled around. It was her, of course and then he thought of nothing else. "Ems..." he breathed her in, walking toward her with force. But how? The little bit of air that his body took in was now caught in his throat, bubbling itself back up as his body came into contact with hers.   
  
"What's wrong, Rupes?"  
  
Was this a dream? He didn't know. All he knew was that Emma was standing in the middle of the kitchen at his parents house wearing a simple oversized white tee-shirt, black tights, and her favorite motorcycle boots. He stared at her legs and the way her bum allowed his t-shirt to hug her hips. He needed her and he needed this and here she was, early, and yet right on time. He kissed her lips, causing them both to breathe in sharply. Her hands creeped up to his sides as his mimicked her actions along her cheeks. He thumbed at her ears causing her to moan into his mouth. Anyone could walk in at any moment and neither seemed to care.   
  
Neither Emma nor Rupert could think of anything except the way their bodies fit perfectly against one another as Emma began to lick at Rupert's lips begging for an entrance she knew would soon be granted. He gave in, secretly needing her as close as possible. He knew she could feel it in the way one of his hands left her cheek and creeped down to her lower back. Rupert pushed her body as close to his as possible. She groaned again, fighting the urge to jump up and wrap her legs around his waist. Instead, she pulled away, but only for air. Her lips were on his again in short sweet kisses. If they were anywhere else she would begin pulling at his flannel shirt but instead she pulled away, smiling up at him while her hands idly played with the hem of his shirt above the back pockets of his jeans. "Hi" she whispered, settling into him so that her head was just below his chin.   
  
"God Ems, you scared me"  
  
"Scared?"   
  
"A good scared. You're just...early."  
  
"I skipped class and moved my flight." Rupert went to speak but was stopped by Emma's finger on his lips. "I needed to see you."  
  
"You shouldn't have done that..." Emma's face sunk a little bit. "After that hello I don't know if I'll ever be able to let you leave..."  
  
"Good," she said all too quickly. "Let's go to your apartment and stay there forever." Rupert raised an eye. Emma was the inexperienced one when they began all of this and now he couldn't help but be surprised at how forward she was. It turned him on more then he ever thought possible but he also couldn't help but to blame himself for the innocence lost.   
  
"As nice as that sounds I promised everyone I'd stay for dinner tonight..."  
  
"That sounds nice too. Do you think they'd mind you bringing someone?"  
  
"Are you kidding? They love you. They'd probably rather have dinner with you than me"  
  
"Silly."   
  
"Do you want to watch a movie?" Then he was gone again. "God, Ems you're here..."  
  
Emma giggled. "I'm here," she stated simply. And then: "Rupes..."  
  
"What?" He whispered still staring at her lips. He wanted to look over his shoulder to where she stared out the window but he was stuck on her and the way she still managed to get her body close to his.   
  
"It's snowing..." she whispered. "Wanna play?"  
  
"You hate the cold..."  
  
"I have a jacket..." She stomped her foot. Everything about her today was sixteen. "...and you." Her voice was low and calm now. It didn't waiver the way he wished it had to keep his eyes off the heave of her chest. "C'mon," she whispered.   
  


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x. Elle 


	31. I Shall Believe

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
A/N: This is a bit longer (luck of the draw, told ya!) and a bit more mature than the last chapter.  
  
Song: _I Shall Believe_ \- Sheryl Crow**   
  


* * *

  
  
Rupert's backyard was sincerely one of Emma's favorite places in the world. When she was eleven, they built the pool. At thirteen, the pond was put in and by the time Emma was fifteen, the bike paths and the stables were fully constructed. His mother's flower garden had flourished considerably since then, with blooms of lavender and periwinkle threatening to expand the fence line. Recently, a zip-line appeared above the pond, and the bikes disappeared into the garage for winter. For Emma, it was all brand new. She had marked her teenage years by the grass she now trodded upon and the memories spent with this boy, her boy, underneath the oak tree at the top of the hill.   
  
"Rupert if you drop me..." Both of Emma's tiny feet rested on the knot at the bottom of the rope. Knowing that this zip-line was mostly Rupert's idea caused her to doubt it's make while at the same time thinking just how much she trusted him.  
  
Rupert stepped back, his hand red from the cold still grasping the thick rope holding Emma up. "Whoa? Full name...really?" He stepped back into her.  
  
"The water is probably freezing..."  
  
"Good. Like old times." He smirked, raising an eyebrow as he tugged on the rope sending Emma's body bumping into his. She hovered above him on the rope while he stood on the muddy bank. The snow from before was already making quick work of softening the ground. His boots pushed at the grass pulling old browned roots out of the ground. A light snowfall continued as he leaned forward kissing her cheek. She smiled into him, closing her eyes to savor the moment. Then, he pulled back on the rope, bringing Emma's body over the ground he stood on and not the cool black water below. She felt safer there, her body suspended based on the placement of his fingers, strong and still.  
  
Rupert paused, seeing if she was ready. The last time he had done this they were back in her dorm room. The earth was much warmer then and there was much less clothing involved. Like the jackets they wore, there was nothing covering their bodies as Rupert kissed up and down Emma's inner thigh, causing her mouth to coo his name.   
  
"Shush!" she piped up, almost as if she was reading his mind. "Now push." He did. But she didn't let go. She held on, causing him to lose his footing and grab at the rope she was perched on sending them both into the pond below. Emma was right. It was freezing.   
  
"Emma!"  
  
She splashed him, cocking her head back to laugh at his soaked hair. "Rupert!" she mimicked. "This is all you, babe! You hesitated!"  
  
"You were supposed to use your body weight to push off of me! You didn't let go!"  
  
"Rupert! You promised!" Emma couldn't stop laughing. Her giggles kept the cold from seeping through the wool of her coat and onto the paleness of her skin.   
  
He grabbed her, pulling them both out of the water and onto the shore. They were both a muddy mess, his jeans browned with the same mud that was now staining her legs through her tights. She shivered but didn't notice. Emma left that up to Rupert, who had instinctively held on to her body since he rolled them both onto the bank. She was still laughing, something Rupert promised to never tire of; it was his favorite sound.  
  
"What?" she quieted down. Emma reached out, her wet hair mussed against her neck as she stared up at him. Her fingers crept up to his face, caressing the line of his jaw. They were still for a moment, wondering where to go from here.  
  
Rupert shook his head, knowing nothing could ever excuse the way he so often stared at her. He drank her in and rarely noticed. He grew up in a place where people often made fun of the way his eyes always seemed to find her. Then there they'd lay, taking all of her in. "Let's get you inside. This was a dumb idea." Emma just nodded. It was her turn to stare. Rupert grabbed her body but she stopped him. She didn't want him to carry her or hold her up on a level she didn't deserve. No, Emma much rather preferred to walk beside him and let the cold pain her the way she saw it begin to hurt him. It was then that she wondered how much of her complaining back on set drowned out his uncomfortableness. Her heart ached for him in moments like this. Emma never wanted to be the girl that took advantage of such a sweet boy. She was his now, and she wanted nothing more than to give herself completely over to him.   
  
Emma found herself on auto-pilot from the back door to his room. All she could remember was his thumb caressing her hand as he held onto her, dragging her through his parents home. It was undeniably quiet but she didn't seem to care. Her mind was doing enough talking for the both of them. Suddenly, they were inside, and the light that his blinds kept out of the room was creeping on her skin as he rid her of his jacket while she helped him do the same.   
  
Rupert allowed himself to separate from her, lighting the fire below his television with a simple flick of a switch. Emma nestled into him, stepping into the space beside him as she rested her head on his shoulder. "I missed you so much, Rupes."  
  
He said nothing. She said nothing. Emma crossed her arms over one another, quickly pulling his shirt off her body. It was damp, but not as wet as her body felt. The fire played picture shows against her skin, stopping only when the light was too dim to catch along the black bra she wore. Hungrily she stepped into him, grabbing at the back of his neck as she attached her lips to his. They stumbled backwards, detaching only to rid Emma of her tights and Rupert of his shirt. His muddy jeans still clung tightly to his thighs. Emma wanted those gone too but was too distracted by his lips on her bottom lip to push her hands to do anything about it. They were up against the wall now, right outside of the bathroom. Rupert's hands were all over Emma's body, feeling as she shivered into him. "Baby, are you cold?"  
  
She nodded quickly pushing herself onto him once more. She undid his belt while she kissed at his neck. Her arms were little things against his broad upper body. They did quick work on the leather, not even bothering to take it from its loops before fiddling with the zipper on his jeans. Soon, they were both undone and completely exposed. Emma's kisses pushed Rupert back, off the wall and stumbling into the white porcelain room. Her skin was blue against his, a much warmer red. She shivered as his fingers threaded themselves through her hair. Already she could feel her tresses curling around her face. He just kissed her nose, reaching behind her body to turn the shower on.  
  
She sat on the rim of the tub, running her fingers up and down the planes of his chest. She stared at his length, wanting all of it right then and there. Attempting to think rationally, she stopped herself grabbing for his neck so that her lips were once again on his. Rupert pulled away, meeting her lips with resistance. "Whoa, slow down…"  
  
Emma raised an eyebrow. He could tell as he now grew in her hand, how much he wanted her. "I need you, Rupes. I can't do this without you…"  
  
"I'm right here." He ran his hands over her shoulders, then down the length of her arms. Rupert kissed at her neck, using one hand to displace her hair and the other to rest on her waist for support. She was standing now, but only barely. If it weren't for him she would have been on the cold floor, in a pile of exhaustion and need. "You taste good…" he muttered, lapping at her skin. "Ems, I love you"  
  
She straightened up. "I love you too, Rupes." A silence overcame then as the water began to steam up the room. It painted the walls with water droplets, as a similar texture began to coat their skin. In the tub now, with water cascading down Emma's back and onto Rupert's legs, everything began to spin. Still, the world was silent and calm. They took things slow, and even if there was nothing that needed to be accomplished, Emma still took care with each moment and every part of him, as Rupert made sure to pay special attention to all of her.   
  
They weren't doing much, but Rupert's mood was so improved he didn't seem to care. He could look down at her forever with her hair wet and perfectly slicked back. He didn't have to see himself to know that he'd never compare. "You're beautiful," he groaned as she reached out for him, taking him in her hands as she began to stroke. It was unexpected, and lovely all the same. "God, Ems…" He dropped his head back.   
  
She smiled, stopping her ministrations only to lick at her hand. It was the sexiest thing he had ever seen. He growled, quickly consuming her lips. He tasted only her, as the water washed away everything they were trying to experience. "You don't know what it's like not seeing you everyday?"  
  
"I don't? I think it's something like not seeing you everyday."  
  
"We were dumb, Rupes."  
  
"What?" He asked, staring at her hips at the way she continued to kiss at his neck and down his stomach.  
  
"We were with each other everyday and we never said anything. I never told you how I felt. I was blind to the way you felt-"  
  
"Like it was obvious." He moaned into her mouth as he seized her lips once more.   
  
Emma just giggled, hugging Rupert as the water encompassed her shoulders and kissed her skin. "C'mon. I'm being serious here!" She swatted at his arm. "Don't you know what I mean?"  
  
"Hmm?" Rupert said. He heard her, but her cleavage was much more enticing than spending time wasted on a past that was already gone. He knew exactly what she meant, and to be honest, he resented her a bit for it. He also knew that Emma realized this and this was the only reason she was bringing it up. She liked the sound of her own voice admitting truths she had grown into. It helped her to feel strong, and independent. Now, as Rupert kissed down her body, water pushing at his eyelids, she wanted to stand on her own but only found her nerves causing her to collapse into his touch.  
  
They were never as close as they wanted to be, but soon, as Rupert wrapped a towel around him and Emma, the two silently decided that that was alright. The light from outside was beginning to dimish, though, as Emma insisted on commenting on, with Rupert's blinds shut you'd never be able to tell. The skylight above served as their eyes on the world, with late afternoon pinks and purples settling in as they once again kissed.  
  
"I can't get enough of you," she said, pulling away only to reconnect.  
  
"Me neither." He mimicked her actions, rubbing at her shoulders with the oversized towel. Her skin was no longer blue, or even purple. It matched the sky, sparkling in a deep pink and a warm amber as the fire warmed the entire room. Speckled light played against her skin as she stumbled back, taking him with her. She was almost ready to fall back on to his bed, when Rupert's door swung open. Instead of falling down, she stood closer to Rupert, praying that the towel covered them both just enough.  
  
"Rupes, can you-Em…" Charlotte spoke, her voice assessing the situation before her mind was even given the chance. "Oh...oh!" It finally made sense. "This is good. This is too good. Does mom kn-?"  
  
"Charlotte, shut the door."  
  
"Ew perv, lock it next time."  
  
Samantha came around the corner. She always was the most informed in the family, especially with James and Georgina now away at university. "Oh boy…," she leaned against the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest. "Emma...my brother? REALLY?!" Her accent reeked of sarcasm. Rupert shook his head. Only then did he look over and see how far Emma had retreated into him so that her face was nearly hidden beneath the towel. His sisters could make fun of him, but it angered him that they made Emma feel so uncomfortable. What happened to the confident girl back in the washroom? She was here somewhere, and he found her, but only after the door was shut.   
  
"Hey, you okay?"  
  
Emma grabbed for his flannel from the ground. She wrapped it around her naked body as Rupert returned from locking the door. They should have waited to get back to his apartment to start all of this. Then again, they couldn't and here they were. She leaned back on Rupert's bed, using her elbows for support as she crossed her legs, one over the other. Her skin appeared to be tan as the flames from the fire washed away her freckles. Rupert held onto the knot that kept his towel, the one they had just shared, around his waist. He sat on the edge of his bed, picking up his watch then setting it back down after he checked the time. It was getting later and already his mind was beginning to calculate how much longer she'd be his.   
  
Calculations were interrupted as Emma slid on her black lace panties and scooted toward him on her knees. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing at his ear. He smiled into her, knowing how perfect she always seemed when trying to calm him down. He wasn't angry or upset, he was merely mourning the moment lost when his sisters decided to open their mouths. "Where's your head at, Rupe?"  
  
He turned to her, sitting so that he was now perched against his headboard. Emma propped her head up on her elbow, staring up at him through tired eyes. "We have these weekends Em, and they're great...and then you're gone."  
  
"But I'm here now." He smiled, but only slightly. She was here and she was his. Maybe she always would be but life had a way of tearing them apart to balance out all of the years where they were always together.   
  
"I know and seeing you in my kitchen was the sexiest thing I've seen in a long time. I just wish it wasn't like this. You're right. We were dumb. We should have figured this out awhile ago. But we didn't. And now that you're mine, you're never here. But now that you're here, I know that the next step is you leaving…"  
  
"Rupes, babe, you can't think like that."  
  
"But I do. I've been miserable Em. It's not just my girlfriend being gone, it's my best friend and as much as I love having you close the way we were in the shower, I just need you sometimes. I need your advice and your laugh and the way you smile at me even when what I say is so stupid…"  
  
"Never!" she teased.  
  
"I'm serious."  
  
"So am I. Here…," she scooted up closer to him so that it was just the two of them underneath the skylight. She rested her head on his shoulder, fighting the wells of tears hidden behind her eyes. He was perfect for her. They weren't dumb, she was. He had seen things in her she didn't even know existed while she was too busy dating boys she thought she could figure out when really, there was one she had figured out long ago, right in front of her eyes.  
  
"I'm here now. Can we please enjoy this and forget about everything else?"  
  
"Fine. Just...when do you leave?"  
  
"Rupes…"  
  
"Emma."  
  
"We have a few days, okay? I leave Saturday afternoon."  
  
He nodded. Emma rested her chin on his shoulder. "You were phenomenal in there..." Emma said seductively, so obviously referring to the washroom. As the blush from her cheeks disappeared, her confidence reappeared in little spurts as he began to attack her neck sending her head flinging back against the pillows as she giggled, eyes closed and free.   
  


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x. Elle 


	32. Hold On

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
A/N: This is my favorite chapter I've written for this FF so far. I'm sure you'll all guess but I may have inputted a few of my own opinions into Georgina's character. Sorry! You all know I can't help it!  
  
Song: _Hold On_ \- Sarah McLachlan**   
  


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Dinner was fine. Wonderful, really. Everything was delicious and Emma devoured everything that was put in front of her, savoring the taste of a homemade meal as she thanked god she was done with the dining hall for the upcoming weekend. Nothing was said about the state of both her hair and Ruperts; it was wet, just as it had been the morning she sat in on breakfast after Christmas. If his leg caressing her thigh was any indication, Emma was positive his mother would have something to say about all of this. Mrs. Grint always had the most perfect way of being frank and sweet at once.  
  
But nothing was said, so they carried on, discussing politics, the renovations they'd be doing to the backyard soon, and upcoming Christmas plans. Rupert spoke only when necessary, and when the meal was over, he and Emma offered to clean up.   
  
They did, slowly yet efficiently, bring the kitchen with its brass and stonework, to a much newer state. The flour was gone from the countertops and the pots and pans were all hung back up over the island in the middle of the room. Emma stood back to admire her work, one hand on her hip as she contemplated where to go next.   
  
"Cinema?" He growled, grabbing at her stomach from behind as he nibbled at her ear. What he really wanted was to go back to his apartment and spend the rest of the night doing just what the afternoon consisted of. He swore he'd never get enough of her, ready and waiting for him. A different kind of dark room would have to do.   
  
Emma turned around, placing her hands on his shoulders. His arms rested in the back pocket of her jeans, nestled comfortably under her mauve sweater. The material was itchy against the balls of his hands, but Emma seemed to enjoy it. "What movie?"  
  
"I dunno." He mumbled, quickly kissing her lips causing her to smile.  
  
"You can pick."  
  
"Gosh, we haven't been to the cinema in ages...do you remember that time we went after shooting and you had just gotten your license and we didn't tell our parents and they freaked out thinking we had gotten arrested or something?"   
  
Rupert nodded, remembering the night fondly. The streets of Leavesden were quiet then and he wondered if they would ever appear to be in that state again. Things are different when you're seventeen and still living life as if it will all meant to be shown on screen somewhere. Rupert remembered times like that, he held them dearly when the world gave him a chance to. But he wasn't seventeen anymore, and he never would be. He was twenty-two and now he spent most of his days wondering how he ever let days like that slip out of his grasp.   
  
He had let her go too, somewhere in there trying his best to convince himself that these feelings he had always had were somehow fleeting. At the same time, she was holding onto the little she had figured out. Then here they were, one day, perfectly together in a world where everything worked. He watched her saunter down the hall, her steps bringing her body further and further away from where he needed her to be. It gave him a headache, watching her body sway as she stood on her own while he struggled to do the same.   
  
"George'-'" Emma said, peaking her head into the study where Georgina, Samantha and Charlotte all sat around the family desktop. The blonde looked to Emma, curious and composed. "Can I borrow your hair dryer? I forgot to grab my adapter from school…"   
  
Georgina smiled her way and walked past Emma, heading down the hall toward her room. Emma followed her inside, admiring the peach walls as the way her black quilted bedspread always remained even as the colors of the walls and the drapes never seemed to be able to.  
  
"Here." Georgina said, handing the white floral apparatus to her brother's girlfriend. Emma began to walk off, but was soon stopped as Georgina continued to speak. "Em…"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Sam and Char told me about this afternoon...they didn't mean to embarrass you or anything, this is all just new for us."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Do you?" Her words were biting. Emma wanted to nod but couldn't find it in herself to move her head in such a way. Maybe she knew nothing at all. What was she getting at? "Rupert's been so in love with you for so long and you've been blind to it for just as long. And I don't know what happened. One day you were his best friend and now it's clear you're something more but I want you to know that he's my brother and I love him. Any girl would be lucky to have him and I'm not going to lie, I'm thrilled that you're that girl and I know he is too. He's waited forever and I really think you two are perfect together. Really, I do. But please don't take him for granted. He's fragile-he breaks. I've seen it happen, especially with you not being around lately. He needs you. So let him, okay? But don't ever think that he isn't putting just as much on the line as you feel you have…"  
  
"'Gi, we-"  
  
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be brash."  
  
Emma was at the door now. Her voice was coming out in little whispers as she leant her head against the white wood of the door frame. Her feet were covered in black wool socks that stretched over her jeans as if she was about to leave to put boots on. Everything about her was put together, but her mouth hung open, unsure of what to say. "I love him, you get that right?"  
  
Georgina shook her head in compliance. It was one of the things she had always known about her brother and Emma; they were in love now because they always had been. A part of her wished it would always be like this, as if her words to Emma consummated everything. "I know you do. And that's awesome, Em. We've all been waiting for you to be this honest about everything. I just know how he is. Please be careful with him. That's all I ask...okay?"  
  
Emma didn't respond. She was on her way back toward Rupert's room when he came to meet her halfway. He smiled at her, something that quickly diminished as he saw her state. She was smiling, but her breathing told a different story, one he knew all too well as he saw Georgina look back at them before disappearing into the family lounge. "What did she say to you?"  
  
"Nothing, it was nothing, Rupes…" She said, pushing passed him to enter his room.  
  
He grabbed at her arm, gently, but enough to send her body spinning into his. "Ems, what's wrong?"  
  
"I love you…"  
  
"Emma Charlotte…"  
  
"Say it back Rupes, that's all I want."  
  
"Of course I love you, are you mad?"  
  
"Sometimes I think I am. Or at least I have been."  
  


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x. Elle 


	33. Wish You Were Here

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too. I also do not own the character of Sam from The Perks of Being a Wallflower, although it is my favorite book. The opinions of that character are solely mine. If you have not read the book, I suggest you do so so you can therefore form your own.  
  
A/N: Yay readers! I seriously love you all. Thanks, as usual, for the abundance of comments! I don't think you know how much it means to me to log on and see all of them. I know this chapter will not be what some of you wanted. So, sorry! But I think this opens me up to do a few "missing moments" one-shots after the story is finished. So if you guys want to let me know what specific moments I mentioned but never wrote that you want to see written out, I'll see what I can do! That's fair, right?  
  
Heads up: The next chapter is fairly short. Important, but short. If I get a few comments quickly, I'll post that one ASAP. Just something to think about :]  
  
Song: _Wish You Were Here_ \- Avril Lavigne**   
  


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Class ended, just as it always did. While everyone else spent the period tapping away at their computers spending time on blogs and electronic newspapers, Emma hurriedly sent out emails to her assistant and her parents. She was leaving soon to go film in Pennsylvania. Recently, she had signed onto a film she was in love with and unsure of all at the same time. The girl she was set to play was nothing like the girl she played for ten years, both on and off screen. Emma struggled through the script finding herself frustrated with Sam and her backward tendencies. She did things Emma would never do, and things at the same time, Emma did everyday. A boy loved Sam, and Sam was blind to it. Somehow that stayed with Emma, and while there were many reasons she took the part, she remembered saying yes only after coming to that realization and deciding that she could play clueless quite well.   
  
The lecture hall cleared, allowing red chairs to be vacated as everyone grabbed their bags, their coffee mugs, and their umbrellas and walked out of the hall and into the dreary New England day awaiting them outside. It seemed as if it had been raining all week. It stopped for a few minutes the day before as Emma was grabbing coffee and the paper from her favorite coffee shop in town. She took it as a sign to breathe and slow down. Only then did her heart grow heavy and soon she was wishing for rain droplets to cover the streets as she ran.  
  
The lecture hall was like a Greek theatre , opening downward at an angle. Her professor droned on about ancient philosophers and their views on the world. It exhausted and excited Emma, leaving her mystified, sometimes.   
  
"Yes Miss Watson?" Her professor didn't turn around. He stood with his back to her, rubbing at the board with a cloth eraser so that only his khaki slacks and tweed jacket showed themselves to her. He kept a level head. It made Emma uncomfortable. She was used to people giving her all of their attention. College was different now, as Emma struggled to work for it not because she suffered from the loss but rather that she wasn't sure there was an issue in the first place.   
  
"Yes sir, I just wanted to tell you I'm going to be out for the next week. I have..."  
  
"I don't care what you have."  
  
Emma nodded, immediately rolling her lips inward causing the skin there to dry. "Yes sir."  
  
"That's it?" He turned around now. Still, he averted his eyes from hers. Instead he packed up his papers and grabbed for his cellphone.   
  
"Well isn't it?"   
  
A beat of silence encompassed the hall. Emma was about to leave when his voice stopped her, speaking painful truths that made her miss home more than the rain outside ever could. "Do you love something Miss Watson? Like truly love something?"  
  
"Yes sir." Instantly she thought of him. She also thought of Jamba Juice, mint lip gloss, and her iPhone. The thoughts that followed made her laugh but never in the way that he ever did.  
  
"Then fight for it. You have to fight for the things you love in life. If this is the life you want, the academics and the film sets then fine. I think you can do it. But don't you come up here and give up. If you need to go for a week then by all means, you go. Act like you love it. I hear you're good at that. Acting." His southern accent sounded sweet, even as he reprimanded her. She liked the sound of it, mostly because it was different from anything she had heard lately. She was sick of the same songs on the radio and their senses of humor about things she'd just accepted she'd never understand.   
  
She swallowed the saliva that pooled in the back of her throat collecting bits of shame and confusion. He was talking about Acting. All Emma could think of was a boy and the way her heartbeat sped up whenever she was around. She thought of how the same thing happened when she was thirteen and he held her hand at premieres. He was a friend then and a friend now. He would always be her best friend and because of this she deduced she'd always love him. She had to. Her heart couldn't take anything else.   
  
Then, he continued. Or maybe he had been talking this entire time. She couldn't tell. Her ears had shut off, just as her body was threatening to do the same. All she wanted to do lately was crawl into bed and sleep. "I see the way you are in class, Miss Watson. You work harder than anyone here you make good grades and yet you're never here. It would do you well not to overextend yourself. You're only young once, Miss Watson. I read your application when it first came in and I didn't want to let you in."  
  
"Oh." There it was: the painful truth she had told herself when she was first accepted, only after she had agreed not to accept it as fact.   
  
"And it had nothing to do with your qualifications. You are brilliant. But you're young. I knew this place would ruin you. Just set you over the edge" He snapped his briefcase shut. The room smelled of old books and leather but all Emma could concentrate on was the clock ticking steadily behind her head. "And clearly I'm right. Your test," He handed her the stapled packet he had pulled from his briefcase earlier. "Miss Watson, all too average. I suggest you spend more time reading if this is truly what you want to do with life. Thousands of kids wanted your spot. But you're here and it's yours. Please work for it. And Miss Watson..."  
  
"Yes sir?"  
  
"Remember what I said. You're young. But you're a different kind of young. Act your age once in awhile. You may find yourself feeling pleasantly surprised by the outcome."  
  
"Sir..." He was gone. She wanted to defend herself and she wanted to walk after him. She didn't. Instead she rested against the lecture desks, flipping through the paper she had just handed in earlier in the week. Red comments swindled their way in between lines with circles and arrows only emphasizing their meaning. She could barely see her own thoughts amongst this shuffle.   
  
Her phone vibrated. It was her friends, seemingly all of them, asking if she wanted to grab lunch. She didn't. What she wanted was for the picture of Rupert and her on the London Eye to pop up on her screen signaling he was calling. They spoke briefly last night on skype but then he had to go and Emma was left feeling even more lost than she originally was. Rupert was often her answers to life even when he was just her best friend. Now that she was being honest with herself he was everything she always needed. Parts of her felt like phantom limbs, there but all the while somewhere else as her body craved him so much closer. It hurt more than she ever wanted to admit. Now, exiting the lecture hall she collapsed against the wall not caring as people walked by and pondered her disheveled state. She was broken. It was useless to hide it from the world and the only person who could fix her was thousands of miles away on a film set building new characters without her. But he'd always be her Ron, right? Well, she'd always be his Hermione.   
  
She dialed his number with shaky fingers. "Hey Rupes, it's me. How are you? Your movie wrapped! That's...that's great babe. I'm proud of you. You know I'd be there if I could. School's good. I had to tell them I'd be missing a few days for the seven-one premiere and a few days for Perks shooting. Most of them were okay with it. I think they have to be. But I know it bothers them. And my grades don't help. They're not what they're supposed to be. You were right, I guess. I'm out of my element here. And they absolutely are eating me alive. I'm tired, you know? But I'm always tired so it's fine really. It's just stress I guess. And I miss you. Gods, I miss you. I don't think I'm myself this far away from home. I miss my flat and your car and seeing you every morning. It's Wednesday and I had to buy my own muffin, it was absolute rubbish. And my coffee was not extra hot the way you always order it for me. I miss everything you used to do for me. I miss you, Rupes...I miss you."  
  


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x. Elle 


	34. Days Gone By

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
Song: _Days Gone By_ \- Gavin Mikhail**   
  


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On a day that painted Soho in the most beautiful light of clue skies kissing the skyline, Rupert found himself to be cold. Up ahead, Georgina, Robbie, Georgia and a few of his other friends walked. He trailed behind the group, unsure of how close to get to them while he was in this state. Rupert was tired, and tired of everyone asking if he was alright, or okay. He barely knew those words, and for that reason, had yet to define them. He was breathing, and on most days, that was all he knew.   
  
A trail of smoke followed them as they all breathed in and out of cigarettes laced with teenage rebellion. Rupert wasn't going to lie, he smoked sometimes, but only socially and only when he needed to get her taste off his lips after leaving her on a tarmac somewhere.   
  
His mother was right, he was completely disconnected. So much so that he failed to realize that Georgina had waited for him, standing with her hand rested on her hip beneath her leather jacket. "You okay, kid?" Rupert nodded, checking his phone once more. "Oh right, why do I even ask?" She paused. "It's always the head nod and you checking your phone as if the time is suddenly important. It's barely eight there. Give her time to sleep. Foreign concept for you too, I know…"  
  
"'Gina, stop."  
  
"No, I won't. You've become this different person. You finally got this thing that you wanted and now what? You're this pathetic little boy just waiting on her call. I bet you she's not waiting for your call-"  
  
"I thought she was hypothetically sleeping…"  
  
"Rupert."  
  
"So what? You waited for me to...make me feel like shite? Cause it's working…"  
  
Georgina shook her head. "No Rupe, you do that enough all by yourself. You're pathetic. I mean that."  
  
"Yeah, I know. I'm depressed and overworked and just tired, Gi." Georgina ran her fingers through her bleached hair. It echoed her tan skin and her blushed cheeks. She had no words left. Just like the rest of their family, they tried talking to him so they could talk him out of this funk. Every night he slipped further into it. He heard nothing of what they said and instead concentrated on his work. He was filming one movie now and trying to book several others. It was easier to deal with your best friend being on a different continent when you have lines to learn and meetings to get to on time.  
  
Everyone else disappeared into the cafe, leaving Georgina and Rupert outside. His friends knew better than to ask but Georgina was slowly learning too. She knew how Emma felt, Rupert was her best friend too. They were definitely the closest of their siblings, both in age and affection. She wanted to help him, but with every ounce of concern she had, he was busy building walls and planning ahead. "You gonna be okay, Rupe?" He nodded. "I'll order you something delicious. Don't be out here forever. It's freezing."  
  
He dialed her number, hoping to hear her voice in a form other than the one recorded on her voicemail. Feeling defeated, he sighed. "Hey Ems, it's me. It's Saturday and I'm sure you're sleeping. I know you have that award thing tonight I was just hoping you'd be up now so we could chat before then. How is everything? It's sunny here. Freezing, but sunny. Hey, um, I think Dan is going to propose to Rosie soon. We went to look at rings the other day and I think he found one. And he talked to her parents and everything. I really don't think he wanted to ask me to go. He probably wanted you to go with him but you weren't here." He paused; a silence settled into the line. "Sometimes it feels like you're never here. And when you are, you're not...does that make sense? You're so far away from me, Ems. I need you more than I ever thought I would. I miss you, Ems. I miss you."  
  


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x. Elle 


	35. Easy

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
Song: _Easy_ \- Rascal Flatts ft. Natasha Bedingfield  
  
(Like the story, I've had these songs picked for what seems like forever but last night I saw this music video and I was like: "THAT'S MY FF!")**   
  


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Falling in love is easy. What's difficult is falling in love, saying those three words and then waking up one day and realizing that sometimes that's just not enough. Sometimes you need more than just to know you're loved; you need to feel how much the person you love, loves you and Emma and Rupert knew it all too well that it was just as hard to feel that from an ocean away. He remembered it as something fleeting and she remembered it as something that seemed to never end. He wanted nothing more than to pull her close and promise her more than he could ever give and she wanted to run, just as her parents had always taught her to do. They both wanted to figure it out and neither wanted it to end the way it had. Neither wanted it to end at all. Yet to fix something so intricate and beautiful requires time and effort and Rupert and Emma were so exhausted with life that they just gave up and walked away.   
  
It was a happy medium for Emma. The further she pushed him away the more she was able to build up all the walls he managed to knock down. A boy named Johnny stood outside of them trying his best to see her through the glass. She didn't let him in but she told herself he would do. The one thing that meant anything was gone. She'd spend the rest of her life faking love and smiles to boys that only wished they knew if they even realized there was something to know in the first place. It was something she had accepted and learned to swallow like a shot of whiskey on a regretful Friday night. Somehow this burned more going down.   
  
Rupert was indifferent. On the outside he was calm and quiet just as he always was. Unchanging his insides roared on in cracks of flames burning so bright that one day they stopped burning altogether. They fizzled out turning grief into anger and spite. He wanted her but only if she was willing to admit the same truth. Right now as she walked into the party, her boyfriend trailing behind her, he knew he'd never admit it. He also knew that she looked stunning in her champagne colored dress and black heels. Her skin was pale, Rupert's favorite and her hair caused his pants to tighten as he choked on his gin nearly threatening to spit the liquid onto the ice of his crystal glass.   
  
"Dear god..." Rupert mumbled to Tom, swatting at his forearm as he and Jade looked on.   
  
"She's so gorgeous!" Jade remarked. "I'd kill for those hips."  
  
"Jade, seriously..."  
  
"Rupes, he's a flake. She's yours. This whole thing is rubbish. Get her back tonight." A pause and then: "Do it." Like a dare too tempting to turn down.   
  
Emma smiled at everyone the way she always did. Her eyes sparkled, bouncing light from the chandelier above. She was gorgeous. Rupert didn't need Jade to confirm that. He'd think it whether she was here like this or back home in his flat wearing nothing but his zip-up hoodie as she leaned in to seize his lips.   
  
She saw him but only briefly. If she let her eyes linger she knew she'd begin to cry and pretending you're okay is much easier than letting the world see how vulnerable you really are. Emma was broken and empty, most days not even wanting to get out of bed. Her friends, the whole lot of them, told her it would get better and it did but not for the reasons they stated. Time doesn't fix anything, it only makes it easier for you to forget a little more each day. He looked good, wearing the blazer she got him and a pair of jeans she couldn't quite put her finger on. She wanted to, though. She wanted to do a whole lot more than just touch him. It was the same thing she wanted to do every time she saw him. On seven different occasions, this now being the eighth, she wanted to walk up to him, kiss him full on the lips and hope that he'd accept her apology. She knew if she never waited to accept her feelings and let him love her, they'd never be this way. The world hadn't given them proper time to develop. All too quickly they gave into the lost faith and both watched hope slip through their fingers on plane rides and tickets left in suitcases and the back of taxi cabs.   
  
He wasn't alone either but he also wasn't sure where Georgia had run   
off to. The thought made him laugh; this entire thing was just as silly as their relationship was. It started and progressed into more nights of meaningless foreplay. And then that's where it ended. If Emma had taught him anything it was how to build walls.   
  
"Rupe!" Emma watched him hug Dan. Jade and Tom did the same thing and then she stepped forward shaking Dan's hand. They all laughed, most likely about something Rupert had said. Dan seemed to be amused and Emma could finally agree. She enjoyed watching everyone interact as pieces of her heart fell to the floor. Her suede pumps kicked at them and she balanced her weight on the heels of her shoes, like she was kicking at fire only hoping to lose. Still, she kept her composure, awkwardly smiling at Johnny who felt just as out of place as he looked. Emma had heard of Georgia but only when she was Rupert's friend. The things she had heard lately made her want to spit. It was odd how easily she was replaced. How could she have ever given herself up so easily to him?  
  
"Em..." Rupert watched Dan leave him and then travel over to where she was. He half-expected them to be back at Leavesden. He'd be back soon and then they could all film a scene together. Jade was right; Johnny was inadequate like a thin sweater on a late November night. Intensely he watched as a hand that was not his rested on the small of Emma's back, pulling her close. He needed her next to him, the thought alone making him shrug off Georgia as she wrapped her hand around his arm and nuzzled close. She seemed to take the hint quicker than Johnny did. With the way he looked at her, Rupert doubted he'd ever get it. Georgia knew better, something nobody could ever fault her for. She loved Rupert or at least she had the propensity to. Still, he was not hers and with each passing day she doubted he ever would be.   
  
Johnny still had hope. Although her kisses were passionless, Emma smiled at his jokes and touched his cheek ever so tenderly when he messed up a line. That had to mean something. Rupert saw Johnny grasping at things he only recently found were out of his reach. Or maybe Rupert was still holding on to something he didn't know still existed and that was why Johnny was at a loss. He didn't mind though: she was his. It was the only piece of truth he'd ever accept. Why was he so quick to let her walk away back then?  
  


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x. Elle 


	36. Mannequin

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
A/N: It's supposed to be sad, I won't act like it's not. But I wanted this story to be realistic and raw. I think I did what I could to capture Rupert and Emma in their natural state. So damn beautiful and so damn tragic.  
  
Song: _Mannequin_ \- The Summer Set  
  
(This song is so Rupert and Emma it's not even funny! AHHHH. My heart aches for these two sometimes. Why must I be so obsessed?) **   
  


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The answer was that they were in love. They sacrificed pieces of themselves knowing they'd never be the same. With the loss of a friendship the heart recovers and eventually becomes anew by simply returning to the person they always were. With the loss of love, true undeniable love, the heart aches and never truly regains the life it had before. It beats differently as if it were a snow globe, tipped over and shaken then never placed right side up again.   
  
Emma felt similarly, while feeling as if she was somehow unable to feel anything at all. He made her stomach dance as the rest of her body went numb. She saw the way he looked at her, and only because she was looking at him from across the dance floor. Rosie and Dan were not yet married and already there was a family divide. Somehow, Emma found herself on the wrong side of the line, closer to the bar and the veranda leading out onto the patio than any other person from set. She did this to herself, of course, and of course she'd blame Rupert. He'd accept, but only if it meant he'd be able to glance over at her for just a moment longer.  
  
"Hey babe." Johnny kissed her cheek. She smiled into it, closing her eyes to feign the bile creeping up her throat. She swallowed heavily, her throat feeling tight as her body grew warm. He tried, but it was never enough. He meant well, and she knew that but that was all she'd ever know. Emma told herself that this was clearly not going to work, something she had oddly known since she first let him kiss her behind a tree on set in Pennsylvania. It was out of place, making her feel like a child in the worst way. Now, she felt older than she ever wanted to admit. Her heart was fragile, the way she imagined to feel someday watching her husband on his death bed. Maybe that'd be Rupert; the thought absolutely stunned her. She stood here, unable to open her eyes and let it slip away. When she finally did, Johnny spoke again, "I'm heading to the restroom, do you need anything?"  
  
"In the restroom?" She spoke too quickly, embarrassing Johnny immediately.  
  
Johnny shook his head. "No, of course not. Here...I'll just grab you before I head over to the bar, mkay?"  
  
It was Emma's turn to nod. She did so rather slowly. Her eyes were locked on Rupert's again, his bright red hair looking perfect with the olive green button-up he wore, matched well with a skinny black tie. She had yet to stand next to him, but she wanted to. Emma had this undeniable feeling that they'd look more than perfect hand in hand.   
  
He left, and Emma found herself stirring at the ice in her now empty glass. It clinked along the bottom rim on the crystal, making her feel more alone than she had the entire night. Here, in this crowded room, she couldn't shake the idea that she was by herself, in both thought and spirit. Giving up, she walked toward the bathroom, swaying side to side with her hands latched behind her back as she stared at the red carpet below, waiting for Johnny to appear.   
  
He did, several moments later. Time passed slowly, but never for the reasons she craved. He was there and then he wasn't and she couldn't quite tell the difference. It was her turn to be independent, to, for once, not depend on a boy, and she found herself losing the one boy that ever truly meant anything to her. She hypothesized that it caused her so much pain, that she latched onto Johnny out of habit. Ironically enough, he was not Rupert. If only she'd learned anything from her past relationships.  
  
"You ready?" Johnny asked, as if asking her to leave with him. She knew that was what he wanted. Emma saw it etched on his face from the moment they walked in. He was out of his element, only emphasized by his difference in speech and the way Dan sized him up upon introducing themselves.  
  
Before she could answer, the men's bathroom door swung open again, revealing Dan and Rupert laughing about something Emma for once didn't catch. She so desperately wanted to be in that bathroom with them, hearing the full joke. Maybe they were laughing at her; god only knows that's what she was doing on the inside.   
  
"Ems…" Rupert spoke. His voice came to a stopping point, doing nothing but speaking her name perfectly. It was as if he was singing, something she also missed. Only this was different. For the first time, Emma realized he was just as hurt as she was. She swore she was the only one who heard the way his lips spoke to her, about her, around her.   
  
"Hey Rupes!" She hugged him with enthusiasm, holding on for a bit too long. He didn't protest, but instead breathed her in, loving the way her arms gripped at his neck while his own rested carefully on the small of her back.   
  
"You look beautiful." He whispered before finally pulling away.  
  
A simple "Thank you" left her mouth before she even had control over the way her body was reacting. Johnny arched an eyebrow making Dan feel just as uncomfortable. While he held that position, Dan worked his hardest to keep himself from laughing. He found himself with no other option. He had been watching similar scenarios play out in front of him for years. This was different though. In this moment, Dan was fully committed to being himself and yet the people he saw before him were nothing like the Rupert and Emma he loved.  
  
Emma was smiling now. Rupert knew that much. He took it as permission to step into her again. In doing so, his lips brushed against her cheek. She felt his stubble there, kissing her cheek with as much force as his lips seemed to have. Then he whispered something that made her step back and grab for the chain hanging around her neck. As he walked down the hallway, she heard his voice in her ear, taunting her with little truths: "Nice necklace."   
  


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x. Elle 


	37. Don't You Remember

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
Song: _Don't You Remember?_ \- Adele**   
  


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Emma stood at the bar now, pulling on the strand of that hung around her neck as Johnny ordered her a drink. It was his, just as she would always be his. Behind her, he stood. He hovered the way he always did and while it was usually amusing, Emma found herself annoyed and enticed by it all. She didn't want him here and only because having him this close looking this good while not looking at her, hurt. She saw the way he looked at Georgia. It was no different from the way he looked at Bonnie or even Dan. It was friendly and he was amused. Georgia was pretty and quirky but she wasn't Emma. Now she found herself picking apart this girl. She hated the way she wore sneakers and tights to such a formal event and yet she loved the way she was somehow able to pull it off. Her hair, swept back away from her face angered Emma because its haste made it work. Her makeup was minimal, just eyeliner and mascara. Emma hid behind layers of powder and bronzer trying so desperately to be someone different than the girl that left England nearly a year ago and somewhere along the way forgot who she was.   
  
His whispers traveled out of his lips and to her ears as if that was their only purpose. She didn't hear what he said, but instead specs of what she wanted to. Chuckles and smiles and scoffs laced with a hint of the scotch he was drinking. "Here." Johnny shoved a drink her way, watching as she once again smiled up at him. Was he aggravated yet? Emma couldn't tell, leaving herself to answer her own question. She was aggravated, and much more strongly disappointed in the way she was treating everyone else around her. Rupert was doing it too, only he exceled at this art form. He had watched her date many men over the course of their friendship and on most days, the way she felt about him wasn't enough to shadow the way she showed those men how much she wanted to feel with them. It was all a lie though, just as Rupert and Georgia seemed to be to Emma. Then again, was Rupert thinking the same thing about her and Johnny? "Why did he always have to be right?," she scoffed under her breath.   
  
"You okay?"  
  
"What?" She swallowed, grasping her refilled beverage and the lie that was about to drift off her tongue. "Oh, yeah. Lovely."  
  
"Emma-"  
  
"I'm fine, Johnny. Please quit it, will you?" He nodded, now awkwardly sipping at his drink as they sidestepped the bar letting Rupert and Tom step forward to order more drinks for themselves and the rest of their table. Somehow, from the time that Emma began staring at the belt Rupert wore, to the time her eyes finally finished raking down the black denim that covered his legs, Johnny was over talking to Bonnie and Jamie. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, and so Emma retreated, back to the boy with the perfect everything.   
  
"Rum and coke?" He was close now, closer than he was just a moment ago when she stared at his signature shoes, tattered and worn and absolutely wonderful.  
  
She looked up, her brows furrowing as she took him in. She could smell his aftershave, and the little cologne that he wore. His breath smelled of scotch and peppermint. There was something else, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. But she wanted to, and with it, she wanted her hands to roam up and down the lines of his chest, creating maps that only she could decipher.   
  
"You let him buy you a drink? And a shitty one, at that," Rupert commented, tapping at the rim of the glass. Inside, ice clinked, causing Emma to just stare at him, deciding it was best to listen instead of doing what she really wanted, to kiss this boy that loved her, the same boy she had but was no longer hers. "I just think it's funny…"  
  
"Hop off it, will you?" Rupert nodded, stepping into her. It seemed as if they were the only ones in the bar area now. He could tell this was bothering her, and he reveled in the thought of the flush covering her skin in places he couldn't see. "Where's Georgia?"  
  
"Dance with me?" He cut her off. His idea trumped her question, although both were created at exactly the same time.  
  
"Johnny is-"  
  
"Talking to Bonnie," he said as if to correct her.  
  
She sized him up again, going back and forth between the girl who hated herself and the girl that hated this boy for all he was without her. Emma needed time to sort the two out. Soon, they'd be one, and she'd be exposed, feeling naked in the middle of the hardwood dance floor.   
  
"So will you?"  
  
"Will I what?"  
  
Rupert laughed. "Stop staring and dance with me?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
He leaned in, just as he had moments before outside of the washroom. "Maybe I want to hold you for a bit."  
  
"Oh yeah?"  
  
"Maybe." He shrugged.   
  
"I-I, can't." Her words were simple, allowing little time before they began to burn into Rupert's mind. She couldn't or she didn't want to?  
  
"Right. Of course not."  
  
"Do you fuck her?"  
  
He stepped back now, creating a clear space between them now, making it look as if someone had tripped over the chord to the sound system, sending the room into a fit of eery silence. Never did he ever expect to hear Emma hearing those words. She said it once, two months before they broke up, when she was giving him an order while hovering above him in nothing but one of his t-shirts. It sounded different then. Yet, they were different then. They weren't broken the way they are now, at least not yet.   
  
Rupert said nothing. He insisted on reticence in times like this. He saw the way she ached and he saw the way her eyes welled with tears. He knew her pain only because it was encouraged by the same thoughts he had had the entire night. Did Emma let Johnny touch her the way he used to? Did Johnny know about the birth mark on the inner thigh of Emma's left leg? Did Johnny know just how special the girl he most likely fell asleep with every night truly was? Or did he take her for granted the way Rupert wanted to, so many times before?  
  
"We're not dating, you know that right? She's a friend."  
  
"I saw you two at V-festival, Rupert."  
  
"Don't call me that..." He snapped, and yet somehow they continued to talk in hush tones, like a language that only they could hear. "So what? I see you and him more than I'd ever like to-"  
  
"He has a name!"  
  
"Yeah, you seem to use it a lot. I see you guys are just fantastic at that whole conversation bit…"  
  
She breathed in, clenching her fist, the same one that was just grabbing at the chain around her neck for even the slightest ounce of hope. "Fuck you. Why are you trying to hurt me?"  
  
"You don't get it, do you?" He rubbed at his forehead, pushing his hair out of his eyes before it even threatened to get that far. "Hurting you is the last thing I want to do, Ems. We agreed this would be a mutual thing. I didn't think you'd find someone else. I thought we'd figure this out just like we always do. Now…"  
  
"Now there's nothing to figure out, is there? We're not together. And I-"  
  
"What?" He unknowingly urged her to speak.   
  
"I don't even know who you are anymore." Maybe Rupert thought different words were going to fall off her perfect lips.  
  


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x. Elle 


	38. Last Kiss

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
Song: _Last Kiss_ \- Taylor Swift**   
  


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The night winded down to a slow tapping of feet against wood, as female guests kicked off their heels and danced closer to the men they came with. Rosie and Dan did their best to see people off and thank them for the engagement gifts and well-wishes. All the while, Dan's eyes remained on Rupert and Emma, wherever they were throughout the night. Most of the time they were two separate things, but like magnetic force, every so often they'd find each other and share a glance. At one point, Dan swore he saw their fingers brush against one another. It was sensual, sending shivers up his spine. Rosie noticed, but it didn't bother her the way that Rupert was bothering Emma. In a way, it made her smile. She did nothing but press her hand into the material of his sports jacket to calm him down. He cared too much about two people who did the same.   
  
He was there, watching, when Emma walked over to Rupert and asked him to dance. "Let's go." Of course this was only after Georgia took a taxi home with Bonnie. Maybe that was all Emma needed; to know that Rupert and this girl weren't going home together. She couldn't compete with that kind of confidence, especially not when Johnny hovered around her, feeling lost and confused much in the same way Emma did.   
  
"Where?" He tasted of alcohol, and he wondered if Emma could tell. "Ems…" There it was, her name on his lips and suddenly she was pulling him onto his feet, his body colliding into hers. She slowly pulled him to the dance floor. They stepped into it much easier than the two ever thought was possible. It was as if they had spent their entire lives dancing this same dance, in and around and with one another. "This is nice," Rupert said, pulling her close as they found their rhythm.  
  
Emma nodded. She played with the hair on the back of his neck, hoping nobody noticed how her fingertips took their time with each gorgeous red strand. He held her body similarly, loving how his hands fits perfectly on the curves of her hips. His other hand laced with hers, which was now pressed perfectly into his dress shirt, like a secret to be kept. With each down-beat, they grew closer. Emma's face lit up as she felt him soften at her touch. "I miss you, Rupes"  
  
"Ems, don't."  
  
"Then don't call me Ems…" She was teasing now. Above them, Eric Clapton floated through the speakers.   
  
He nodded. Without prodding, he held onto her arm, watching as she spun around, twirling for only him. They both knew it was a lie though. The room, despite thinning out, was still quite crowded, and it looked as if everyone's favorite past time was staring at them, swaying to the chorus of a song they'd heard a million times. It was different for them though, and everyone knew it. They had things to prove to the world.  
  
"I'm sorry for before…" Emma's voice trailed off as she stared at the now empty bar where they stood hours earlier. "I was dumb. I am dumb."  
  
"Yeah you are. But I can't fault you for that." She wanted to ask, but she didn't have to. "I had the same thing on my mind since you walked in. You and him...I can't. But I have to, don't I?"  
  
"Do you?" There it was again, like an old friend. Little bits of silence crept up on them, after their conversation could no longer hold them back. They were talking but they weren't really saying much. They wanted to though; both Rupert and Emma wanted to many unsaid words to finally mean more than they ever did sitting in the recesses of their minds.   
  
She stared up at him searching for an answer. Almost all of them was touching. Nothing was left unaccounted for as Rupert felt her let go. His hand was suddenly his again. Instantly, but with pace, Emma cupped his cheeks. Rupert knew what happened next, and as his jeans tightened at the feel of her hot breath on his cheek, he couldn't do anything to stop it. He didn't want to either, and that was only reassured as he seized her lips against his, inviting her body closer and closer. In response, he breathed in deeply, letting her mouth linger upon his for just a moment longer. His knees grew weak and yet he felt as if it was he who was holding her up. He was her rock, he had to believe that. She felt it, did he?  
  
With eyes closed, Emma couldn't tell, but she hoped that somewhere in the room Johnny was watching, thinking of how to react. She wished there was another way to tell him that she had been planning this since accepting the invitation to attend this party. What she didn't expect was the way Rupert gave in, and let her have him. He was hers, if only for a few brief moments as she ran her hands through his hair. He was still reacting, unsure of how forward to be, all the while loving the way she let him touch her. His hands had been aching to do this all night. Now, they rested, one on the side of her face and the other pulling her even closer to him. Little separated them, turning milliseconds into specs of eternity that collected dust before crashing down.  
  
"Rupes-"  
  
"Ems…"  
  
"No, no no no!" She pushed him away, holding her hands above her head to silence her thoughts. "No!" One last protest before she ran off. He said nothing, did nothing. He stood, lonely in the center of the dance floor, just watching her go. Sometimes it doesn't matter how much you want something. Sometimes things don't work out, sometimes the people you love aren't able to love you back, and sometimes they are, and that's what killed Rupert like no other.  
  


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x. Elle 


	39. Better Than Love

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they'd be dating already. Therefore, only the ideas involving them are mine. Oh, and the writing style too.  
  
A/N: Someone asked me if this was going to have a happy ending and for me, this is a happy ending. I think part of the beauty of Rupert and Emma is that they're not together in real life. Not that I don't want them together, but when they're not, when they give into this friends (or even worse, sibling) idea, it's heartbreaking to watch but we keep watching all the same. I think this chapter closes everything up nicely.  
  
Song: _Better Than Love_ \- Griffin House  
  
"Nothing turns out the way we planned--you're still my baby and I'm still your man"  
  
(Tell me this song doesn't fit them perfectly. DO IT.)**  
  


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He cleared from out behind a few deliberate puffs of smoke. She breathed him in as his lips detached from the paper of his cigarette. Rupert held the thin material in between his index finger and his thumb, hoping the cotton inside would ignite and just set this entire situation on fire. It never did though. He was back to hoping Emma was his sooner than he wanted to admit, especially as she sat down next to him, her dress clearly getting ruined by the mere thought of kissing the wet curbside.   
  
"Do you mind?" Her voice came out so softly it was as if she wasn't speaking at all. For a while after, she wished she hadn't. He seemed to like it better when it was just her body inhabiting space that his eyes approved of by never once looking away. Now she was so damn close, her hands hidden beneath the fabric of her dress which draped itself down toward the concrete. Her knees were pulled up toward her chest, her hands resting gracefully where they met in the middle. He loved her knees, and the way she could learn everything about the world except how to sit properly in public.  
  
"Do you?" They played this game sometimes. Hell, maybe they'd always be playing this game or ones like it. Rupert would always be that boy for Emma, a fact she both loved and loathed. He was there for her, the way nobody else ever had been and he knew her nuances and how the way she walked was completely indicative of her mood. He knew her favorite dress was red and she had only worn it once due to the way it made her look pale and English, something she'd forever be running away from. He liked the way she smiled at him and she liked smiling only because it was impossible for her to give without him reciprocating everything her lips said silently. She liked the same things about him, and although she'd never admit it, she loved his old sneakers and how he refused to throw them out no matter how torn they seemed. Why then, did he give up on them so easily?  
  
"What's this?" Emma nodded toward the cigarette that now hung close to the pavement below. She fought the urge to grab the cigarette from his lips and breathe the bit of him that was left on the stick. Emma had never smoked before. She always coughed when walking downtown through clouds of white smoke that soon disappeared into the foggy night air. Surely though, this was different. Tonight taught her nothing would ever be the same again and now as she sat uncomfortably, she watched, wanting every bit of that cigarette to be on her lips almost as much as she wanted his lips to replace it after she exhaled.   
  
Rupert stared at the burning paper. "New habit I guess." Then he took another hit, the tobacco filling his throat, making his chest constrict. He was almost done, or at least he would have been had Emma not walked out and caught him. Now, he needed something to distract his skin. She wouldn't mind his chapped lips, and he hated her for that. This was a part of himself he didn't want her to see. He was broken, no longer excused for being the mess of a boy she loved. Emma did love him. Rupert felt everything she still needed from him that they left back on the wooden dance floor inside. He didn't need her, but he wanted everything her lips searched for as she kissed him. If the kiss had lasted just a moment longer, he was certain she would have found it.   
  
But he breathed, if only to feel the way her eyes landed on his skin. He didn't have the chance to stare; Emma was doing it enough for the both of them. "Yeah. You used to hate when Dan smoked..."  
  
"I know. I think you break some habits and pick up others." A pause and then the truth. "I had to get the taste of you out of my mouth."  
  
"That bad?"  
  
"No."   
  
Silence settled over them. No words were exchanged, only the echo of breathing, or what she imagined being alive to sound like. Emma wanted to speak, if only to distract her from resting her head on his shoulder as she nuzzled into him and cried on his suit jacket, the same one she had given him. It would have felt good too, reclaiming what was hers.   
  
"Johnny's gone. I mean, he left the party but I wouldn't be surprised if he was on his way back to New York..."  
  
"You shouldn't have done that." Rupert spoke quickly, almost immediately causing tears to spill from her eyes.   
  
He wasn't going to win this easily; he couldn't. She had already lost too much to him by now. Her heart beating from beneath her leather jacket reminded her of this. When had it's rhythm changed and why hadn't she noticed sooner? It was like the world had turned off her favorite song and forgot to tell her that it would never play again. "But I wanted to. And I knew you wanted it. And even if it didn't happen I still would have wanted it to. It doesn't make me any more of a shit person for doing that to him."  
  
Rupert shook his head, excusing her language with a slight laugh. "You're not a shit person, Ems. You're just confused."  
  
"Am I?" She was facing him now, unsure of what to do or say. She knew the answer the way she always would. What Emma needed was to hear it fall off his beautiful lips, maybe after he fixed his hair the way he so often did.   
  
"I meant what I said before. You really do look beautiful. Your hair is..." It wasn't his place anymore to reassure her of things she had known all along. Instead, Rupert changed the subject, watching as the expression on Emma's face faded.   
  
"You mean that? My dad hates it. Johnny hates it." She grabbed at the back of her neck, feeling for the tresses that once hung there in wavy strands. She missed her long hair and the girl that she was allowed to be hiding behind it. She was Hermione or another character she had read about or dreamt up. Now, she walked around feeling naked as the world finally saw her for who she was, and who she eerily always had been.   
  
"You're stunning, Ems. Even more so than before and I didn't think that was possible."  
  
She smiled now. Genuinely, her lips parted as she placed her hand on his knee. "You look good too, Rupes..." It felt good. He felt good.   
  
"We were good together, you know."  
  
"The best." She paused. They spoke so surely, making Emma wonder if they had rehearsed this before and she was just too exhausted to remember. "I miss you."  
  
"Me too. Miss you, I mean," Rupert mumbled a bit.   
  
"What are we doing Rupes?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"I want you, you get that right?" Both Rupert and Emma sat on the curb, staring straight ahead. Looking at each other would make time speed up as everything suddenly became as real as it had been this entire time.   
  
"I know."  
  
"And I never stopped loving you. I can't. And if you don't want to be with me that's fine. But I need you in my life again. I need my best friend back. God, Rupes..." He knew what came next and he wanted to badly to taste her the way she wanted to taste him. But he couldn't and she couldn't. Not now, not like this, her face now tear-stained as she leaned into him once more. This was enough, it had to be.   
  
"Ems..."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Just sit with me for awhile, yeah?" She nodded. Emma cried into Rupert. As soon as he finished his cigarette, he grabbed a hold of her hand and held it in his own. He thumbed the skin around her knuckle, soothing her as he single-handedly brought her breathing back to normal. He kissed her forehead, wanting to give her so much more than his heart could provide. She wasn't his, not the way she was before. Or maybe she always would be, and that's what kept them stuck, spending the rest of the party sitting on that step separating the engagement from the rest of the world.   
  
There's security in this life, in things and people they hold dear, and in moments they sometimes let slip away. For years, what Emma believed to be a strong friendship had always been more. Somewhere, deep down, she knew it all along. It was on the tip of her tongue many days back at Leavesden, especially that day on the beach in Wales, and god forbid it didn't escape her that day in the dressing room in the Scotland lingerie shop. It's easier to feel and harder to say, and that's where she lost him, and maybe a bit of herself as well.   
  


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x. Elle   
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